” “To a friend?” “To lodgings—alone. Like carpenter, like chips. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. ” Anna was not late, but her heart sank within her when she entered the drawingroom. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjEwNy4xOTcgLSAwNS0wNy0yMDI0IDAyOjI5OjQ2IC0gMzI2NDcwNDMx
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