My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. "You are angry?" "Very. There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. Forgive my daring. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 26-06-2024 02:29:07
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