Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. “I do not wish to use this. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. A crisis of some kind was toward. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjE4Ni4xMiAtIDEwLTA2LTIwMjQgMjE6NDU6MjYgLSAxNTg1ODkzNjIx
This video was uploaded to ghqzgj.com on 09-06-2024 15:46:40
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12 - Ref13
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6 - Resource Map: 7 - Resource Map: 8