One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. One doesn’t want to lose a grain.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 22-09-2024 23:40:27
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