‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. " "What was it?" "Never glance sideways at a man. Shari proceeded to paint, brush, dust, slather, and blot Lucy’s face with makeup. you did what you had to do. 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: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQzLjI0NS4yMTIgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDAzOjI4OjI2IC0gMTU5NDIxNDcw
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