“I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. You see, I’m separated from my wife. They were the three most beautiful women I had ever seen. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. ” The redness in his face betrayed him.
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This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 22-09-2024 11:00:34
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