“Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. 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 came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 16-05-2024 22:21:18
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