She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. Besides, you cannot tell where it will end. There must be something we can do. They are not your flowers.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3Ljg2LjE0MSAtIDEwLTA3LTIwMjQgMDU6NTA6MzAgLSAxMjU5ODYyOTMx
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