‘I do not know your Gérard. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. I do not know. ” He turned to the waiter, who held a wine-card. She stared at his pleading face. "No; I don't think I'd laugh.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 05-07-2024 11:15:32
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