She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Be on your guard. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. ” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 02-06-2024 10:41:43
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