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What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. The new-comer looked at Charcam. One is always familiar with the business of one’s neighbours.
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This video was uploaded to mine-tec.com on 08-06-2024 05:36:49
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