"Who are you?" inquired Mrs. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 15:21:36
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