” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. Here, it might be anything at all. “I cannot part with you. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi42Ny4xNzcgLSAxOS0wNS0yMDI0IDIzOjExOjMzIC0gMTI1MDIyNDc0MQ==
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