Meantime, a change had taken place in the weather. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-09-2024 14:24:09
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