But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. “It’s—private. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor.
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This video was uploaded to danilocalvaresi.com on 28-05-2024 05:34:56
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