She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. “There have been other times,” he said a little sadly. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways. You will be wearing your travelling dress, and no doubt you would prefer it. " He paused, and not without malice. A quick flush stained her cheeks.
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This video was uploaded to afrikaexpress.info on 29-05-2024 03:09:20
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