Capt. O'Hara:
I make myself a martyr.
Sweet Kitty Bellairs:
How? A martyr? To sit beside me is so painful then?
Capt. O'Hara:
To sit with arms, useless at my side, when I might be pressing you to me. To look longingly at what I may not touch. Your lips. Isn't that martyrdom, my lady?
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:35
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