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That is what they call these aristocratic refugees,
the English. The entrance was barred against them; and they had the
additional mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at their
discomfiture. No, don’t let me call myself that. She walked over to them still
carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. Only her face was clear, frail
and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut
into a practical short bob. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. Anna raised her eyebrows at the
sight of him. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. He is big and powerful; one of those
drinkers who show it but little outwardly. Yet even now there
were so many things untouched, so much to be learned. She stared.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 08-07-2024 11:10:15