"Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. The thought of them distressed her without subtracting at all from the oceans of happiness in which she swam. What the editor had to say none of the three cared just then. Come along home, Ruth. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 07-06-2024 07:04:23
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