She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. You love Ennison. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. ‘That is my mother.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 19:38:06
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