“Have some more port wine, sir?”
“It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. Manning,”
she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m
doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?”
“As you will,” he said. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost
as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no
discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. Diane did not hear the footsteps on
her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock
being compromised. She was introduced, perhaps a little too obviously for her taste, as a girl who
was standing out against her people, to a gathering that consisted of a very old
lady with an extremely wrinkled skin and a deep voice who was wearing what
appeared to Ann Veronica’s inexperienced eye to be an antimacassar upon her
head, a shy, blond young man with a narrow forehead and glasses, two
undistinguished women in plain skirts and blouses, and a middle-aged couple,
very fat and alike in black, Mr. Most of them didn’t, anyhow.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMTg3LjE5MyAtIDI5LTA2LTIwMjQgMDc6NTQ6MjkgLSAxNTc2NTM3ODQw
This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 25-06-2024 23:51:52