“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you
not?” she remarked. “You certainly are. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. “That’s it,”
she said. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up
with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and
followed every movement of his indicatory finger. They ascended by a lift
to one of the upper floors, passed through a long ward, and finally came to a bed
in the extreme corner, round which a screen had been arranged. . ‘I wish you joy of the wench. . .
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 30-06-2024 05:58:07