The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. Why would militia be infesting the place? And he must by now be aware of my interest. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjIwMi4yMDkgLSAwMi0wNy0yMDI0IDAxOjQ2OjE2IC0gMTQxNDMyNzM3Mg==
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