"Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. She cried out in pain, then in pleasure as he thrust himself into her. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. Hours were spent in preparation for the event. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE4OC4yMi4yMTMgLSAyNC0wNy0yMDI0IDE0OjE0OjQ4IC0gNzE1ODM0MDY3
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