“Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. She wedged the towel between her legs. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4xMjIuMTIyIC0gMDktMDctMjAyNCAwMjo1NzowOSAtIDY2ODIxNDQ1Ng==
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