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What would happen when next morning she returned to Morningside Park? He couldn’t turn her out of doors. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. ” “Isn’t it. " "I can't. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 01:18:34
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