Mr. The
infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since
brought him up as his own son. As a matter of fact Mr. I’m in a mess—a
nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess!
“Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess!
“Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things?
“Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!”
She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger
below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. Of you, I mean. It is queer, but men of education and good birth fall swiftest and
lowest. You had better let me go
again. "Perhaps you could point out such a party, Mr. "
And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the
canvass. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o'
puppies.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 01:38:24