“Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. 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’s taken my sword. It’s a world of dirt and skin diseases and parasites.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 02-06-2024 05:49:13
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