She had a better voice than I, and the rest I
suppose is only a trick. Tell me how you are earning your living
here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?”
“I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care,
through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. Jonathan had to feel his way. There he stands. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And,
laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. You would want me to be clean,
if you gave me a thought, that is. I rarely set foot in London these days. “Cheveney!” she repeated. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane
inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. ”
“No doubt. I think not.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 03-07-2024 09:02:16