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. E. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. I do want them. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjcuMjYgLSAyNi0wNi0yMDI0IDE0OjIxOjM1IC0gMTUyOTU1ODQ0OA==
This video was uploaded to choigaigoi.net on 24-06-2024 22:14:19
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6 - Resource Map: 7 - Resource Map: 8 - Resource Map: 9