\" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from. 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. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. “Not much,” he answered, “and yet about all there is to be known, I fancy.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 22-06-2024 18:46:20
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