. Diane Vorsack clicked her tongue in a “tsk”. ‘Wait! No time for that. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. Even, I do not mind to study this Latin so abominable.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 19-09-2024 22:34:02
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