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She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch.

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This video was uploaded to vjxyp.com on 14-06-2024 14:24:37

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