"Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. He envied her a little. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival. The girl only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment quietly upon his. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning.
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This video was uploaded to afrikaexpress.info on 30-04-2024 14:02:13
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