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She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. T. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 07-06-2024 23:40:58
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