There is no Heaven for your mother. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. Perhaps she was. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. Pah! Damned Frenchified—’ ‘If you say again,’ threatened Melusine, moving to meet him like a jungle cat poised for the kill, ‘this scorn of a thing French, monsieur le baron, I shall be compelled to give you this apoplexy of which she speaks, madame. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 11-06-2024 07:09:43
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