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“You!” she exclaimed. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again. “It sounds too ridiculous. I am your servitor. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 02-10-2024 01:23:57