She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. You called her a wanton!" "Because I had every reason to believe she was one.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1Ljc5LjEzOSAtIDMwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDk6MTY6MjEgLSA3MTk0MjI4Ng==
This video was uploaded to siguava.com on 28-06-2024 11:20:30
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6