Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. One would say she could try to —to prevent that her daughter will go to the convent. “Your mother was a Gypsy. You jumped, and I think that you left me. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. But he was not a father one could make much of. ” She lifted her eyebrows.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 26-06-2024 09:28:51
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