There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and
carried pearls in his pocket. Well, let him be honest. She then opened Lucy’s meager
closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually
reserved for weddings and funerals. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind,
that this was really the man. The
doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. “No,” she
answered, reluctantly. No one would ever know what happened to him. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other
guests. . He would always see the picture of the
huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into
the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit
penitently to their wooden images. . No lights
were flashing, and a single squad car was not a cause for
alert, as sometimes the Becks allowed squads to use their
drive to watch for speeders and other reckless drivers. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 12-07-2024 20:40:56