“Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. “Generally gets here about seven. Meanwhile, she doesn’t realize she’s pregnant and he’s still after her, day after day. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. She had lost it. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance.
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This video was uploaded to choigaigoi.net on 29-06-2024 18:31:29
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