His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. You will not have to wait long for the information. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-07-2024 14:54:21
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