‘I am not French in the least, bête. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting. 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. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 11-06-2024 11:28:44
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