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. "Can't you see? I can't hurt her, if … if she cares! I can't tell her I'm a madman as well as a thief!… What a fool! What a fool!" A thief. ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. David left this afternoon. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet.
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This video was uploaded to auctionswatch.info on 16-06-2024 22:37:38
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