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Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. There were always parrots and parrakeets screaming in the fruit groves. "No, I don't. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. ” She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. —'How so?' says I. But Gerald took it for the routine interest in an eligible bachelor, although he was aware many females had an eye for scarlet regimentals.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-06-2024 22:26:22
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