Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. You see—I didn’t understand.
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This video was uploaded to practical-tool.shop on 13-07-2024 10:42:33
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