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You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf. I know what I am talking about. What happened? Did you turn me?” “Yes, my love. And the less “anything” happened the better. She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 06-06-2024 17:20:40
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