’ ‘Ah. . Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 13-09-2024 21:08:15
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