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Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. It’s all nonsense.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 21-09-2024 02:03:23
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