‘Now be sensible, Melusine, and let me help you. Nothing seemed to be amiss. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. The coach in which the prisoner had been conveyed was already broken to pieces, and the driver was glad to escape with life. He hated horizons. It is safe.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 20:28:45