Such pretty manners, she thought. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. Ill-drawn, without method or sense of proportion, you have put wonderful things on to canvas, have drawn them out of yourself, notwithstanding your mechanical inefficiency. My eyes are open to you. I care for you. I loved her and made love to her, and I don’t think she quite loved me back in the same way. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne.
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This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 21-09-2024 10:18:50
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