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The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. It is we who have become the parasites and toys. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. Let’s go up to my room. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable.

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This video was uploaded to extremepowersports.info on 16-05-2024 05:53:03

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