I wasn’t. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. One with the appearance of a bald little gnome yawned agonizingly. " This readiness to surrender the coat to her surprised Ruth. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. ” He took up his hat.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 15:25:40
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