" Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. It surprises you. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. Only a book detective could dope this out. And not a worthy tome in sight. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. At no time did she feel bodily or mental fatigue.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 12-07-2024 08:49:50
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