"Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 02:17:22