Robert Dow, merchant tailor, it was appointed that the sexton of St. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 10:03:56