She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. ” She leaned forward for another kiss, which he responded to. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat.
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This video was uploaded to mine-tec.com on 16-07-2024 14:47:13
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