‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good. She had been carrying them, he assumed, but then again the school had some particularly talented kids among the usual ruffians. “You poor little girl!” he cried. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 21:27:51
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