. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. . ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNC42NS4xNDggLSAxMy0wNy0yMDI0IDAyOjI5OjAyIC0gNTg3NTc2Mzk0
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