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‘Bon. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. He spoke in quick nervous sentences. She became more assertive, more defiant. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand.
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This video was uploaded to practical-tool.shop on 16-07-2024 14:54:58
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