Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 20:43:41