Oh God! pardon me. Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 03-07-2024 12:09:09
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