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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. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action. I'm almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your father in any way resembled you, my youngster.
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This video was uploaded to abczqzffmu.com on 31-05-2024 12:05:48
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