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The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. But I will never—never return. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 07-07-2024 16:30:18
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