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Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. 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 boy she had loved was gone.
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This video was uploaded to suzume-news.club on 22-09-2024 06:28:18
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