She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. ” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. I had rather have trouble and hardship like that than be taken care of by others. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEzNC4yMjkgLSAxMS0wNi0yMDI0IDEzOjMyOjU3IC0gMTM5MTYyOTE4
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