Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. Her moods were many and always striking. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. I could always 108 tell right away whether my new foster home was going to be good or bad.
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This video was uploaded to jiiney.com on 25-06-2024 09:18:07
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