Mrs. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a
scowl. She continued to fan herself. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if
he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good
chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the
banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't
refused to take me. She was dressed in a little white frock,
with a very long body, and very short sleeves, which looked (from a certain
fullness about the hips,) as if it was intended to be worn with a hoop. "Dear me!" she added, as she
pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. dear. “In a sort of beautiful garden-close—wearing lovely dresses and picking
beautiful flowers?”
“Ah! If one could!”
“While those other girls trudge to business and those other women let
lodgings. How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the
summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence!
*****
Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjE5LjE3MiAtIDAyLTA3LTIwMjQgMjE6NTc6MTIgLSAxMTQwNTc2ODU2
This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 02-07-2024 11:32:49