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When they came to the round-house, Terry's courage failed him. The flowers and turf, a wild
strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more
interesting than mountains. It was a boy baby cooing in
swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the
butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who
trailed behind, beaming. Her cheeks were flushed, and her
eyes bright. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to
produce the finished work. You can borrow any of my outfits anytime,
you know.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 05-07-2024 04:24:24