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. . I'll call it my wedding gift. ” She smiled at him. He had not remembered her as looking so small. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. " "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner. Queer world.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjE5Ny4yMTIgLSAwMy0wNy0yMDI0IDE1OjEzOjEyIC0gMTI4MDE3NjI0Mw==
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