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She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “I want to be your friend,” he said. "He lives at Dollis Hill, a beautiful spot near Willesden, about four or five miles from town, where he has taken a farm. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. They are more base then the animals and cannot be suffered to live, do you understand?” She nodded. “That’s the point.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 09-06-2024 22:14:27
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