“Well,” she said, “good-night, father. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. You will have to tell me. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. " "It's a queer girl. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 23:34:18