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‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. It slid off flimsily. All I had to do was to piece them together. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts.
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This video was uploaded to uggpascherfo.com on 21-09-2024 17:03:48
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