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” She said as the car stopped. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away. 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. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness.
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This video was uploaded to meteo15jours.net on 05-05-2024 08:25:53
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