" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. ‘So it is that you could not help it. You are the woman I love, Anna. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNi4xMDQuMTI3IC0gMjItMDktMjAyNCAwNTowNjowMCAtIDE3NTI4NTU3MDM=
This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 21-09-2024 05:29:11
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12 - Ref13