A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. “You are coming my way,” Courtlaw answered. ” “It’s wonderful. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. 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.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 25-06-2024 10:42:32
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