A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. But, though the latter was somewhat embarrassed by his burthen, he peremptorily declined Jonathan's offer of assistance. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi4yMy4yMDggLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDAzOjQ0OjQxIC0gMjAyOTYyMTE3NQ==
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