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Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. Mere formality. ‘I should never have told you. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 19-09-2024 05:30:36
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