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‘It is not your affair. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. “The rest,” she said, holding tightly to his hands, “is the most important of all. ‘I knew it. It heralded you, promised you. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start.
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This video was uploaded to siguava.com on 29-06-2024 11:11:14
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