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. She drew a breath, and sighed it out. He slapped his knee. Then Melusine jumped back into the fencer’s pose, on guard, the point of the wicked blade directed towards her enemy.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 13-06-2024 16:03:11
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