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He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror.
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This video was uploaded to brazilianportuguese.biz on 29-06-2024 20:50:55
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