The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. ” She laid her fingers for a moment upon his arm. " His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his temper. I said I’d make shirts.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMTU3LjYgLSAyMi0wOS0yMDI0IDAxOjQ4OjA4IC0gMjA4NTA1ODAx
This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 18-09-2024 02:36:51
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10