" "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. “And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. ‘I am not French in the least, bête. I understand nothing of what you say. Rubbishy novels and pernicious rascals. ‘Gérard is not mad, only of a disposition entirely interfering. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck.
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This video was uploaded to deportesfutbol.info on 07-06-2024 22:16:27
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