” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. ‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. "He has it, and will ever have it," replied Mrs. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNS45Mi4xODQgLSAyOS0wNi0yMDI0IDAwOjU0OjE1IC0gMTU2MTAxNzU2Nw==
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