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When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. He, however, made no remark at the time, but instantly prepared to set out.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 19:34:02