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That last year in Paris,
when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare
to her. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. He
felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little
creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest
fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the
separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. He probably imagines himself to be a
thousand times worse off than he actually is. She had turned round sideways, so
as to look down into the fire. All of us were fussy, colicky babies from what she tells
me.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 03-07-2024 07:40:17