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There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse.
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This video was uploaded to bikemoab.info on 19-09-2024 17:42:04
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