They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. There’s no logic in these things. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. ’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour.
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This video was uploaded to pok-ddal23.live on 01-06-2024 22:48:26
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