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” “Girls!” cried Ann Veronica. ” She groaned aloud and bowed her forehead to her knees. “You are not content then with stealing from me my name. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. If that's true, she's not long for this world. I hate children. ” Ann Veronica sat over her fire with her father’s note in her hand. "Come to my arms, Thames! Oh! dear! Oh! dear!" To repeat the questions and congratulations which now ensued, or describe the extravagant joy of the carpenter, who, after he had hugged his adopted son to his breast with such warmth as almost to squeeze the breath from his body, capered around the room, threw his wig into the empty fire-grate, and committed various other fantastic actions, in order to get rid of his superfluous satisfaction—to describe the scarcely less extravagant raptures of his spouse, or the more subdued, but not less heartfelt delight of Winifred, would be a needless task, as it must occur to every one's imagination.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 00:16:08