” He read it in winter in the evening after dinner, and Ann Veronica associated it with a tendency to monopolize the lamp, and to spread a very worn pair of dappled fawn-skin slippers across the fender. " "She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. I should only disappoint you terribly some day. All your faults are just jolly modelling to make you real and solid. Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her. Well, that’s the situation. That's a queer yarn. . The job is easy. Wary they might be.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjE5Ny4yNTAgLSAxNi0wNi0yMDI0IDE3OjA5OjQ5IC0gNjAxMDc3NzE3
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