Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them.
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This video was uploaded to choigaigoi.net on 06-06-2024 18:54:20
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