He sent me flowers. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. Then her eyes flashed.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 18-09-2024 04:43:09
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