“She’s my wife,” the man muttered. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to
restrain her tears. I'm about to ring for supper. “I wouldn’t make this objection,” Mr. Her heart's in the right
place, at all events; and, since that's the case, the rest may perhaps come round,
—that is, if she gets through her present illness. ‘I do not understand you. . ’ Your name alone
would fill any music hall in London. This is my last week at the ‘Unusual,’
you know. I don’t half disagree with you, Vee, really; only thing is, I don’t see how
you’re going to pull it off. His
glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual
defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 26-06-2024 11:30:54