’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. 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.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 08-06-2024 21:32:33
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