Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. For freedom at least. Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. ‘What’s wrong, miss? Ain’t I done right?’ Melusine’s mind was reeling, but she reached out and seized his wrist. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxOS4xMDUuMTk3IC0gMDMtMDYtMjAyNCAwMDoxNjoxMyAtIDM3MTQ0ODQ2MA==
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