He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. Her answer was not quite ready. I am an independent sort of person,” she continued, “and I am engaged in an attempt to earn my own living. I don’t want to tear at you with hot, rough hands. You DO understand?” “Who cares for most people?” she said, not looking at him. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. “I do not know. Empty, silly, coarse brutes.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4xNTQuMjMxIC0gMDQtMDctMjAyNCAwMzozMjoyMCAtIDE5MDA5NzIxOA==
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