‘This is not love, Marthe. He just wants to get laid. I have come thirteen thousand miles for this young fellow; I'm ready to go galloping thirteen thousand more. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. Also Lucy, who had been so much her friend. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 04:08:31
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