Mrs. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. It isn’t. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. And in the Avenue she had an encounter with Ramage. His eyes closed. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjE5NC4xODIgLSAwMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA2OjQzOjU3IC0gNzUxNzU5NjE5
This video was uploaded to studyinsingapore.info on 03-06-2024 00:32:17
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6 - Resource Map: 7 - Resource Map: 8 - Resource Map: 9 - Resource Map: 10