The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. With this she now entered. S. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjI0Ny4xMTcgLSAwMS0wNi0yMDI0IDIxOjQzOjMxIC0gMTQ2OTE5NzY4NQ==
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