Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQuNjkuMTE5IC0gMjEtMDUtMjAyNCAxNzoxNjo0MSAtIDkxODU3MzM4Mw==
This video was uploaded to mother.danilocalvaresi.com on 19-05-2024 20:41:16
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