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And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood—
remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. 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. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air
of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which
seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein
accident had placed her.
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This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 03-07-2024 13:14:09