Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. He was the true optimist; and that he should proceed, serenely unconscious of reefs and storms, she accepted the double buffets.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 06-06-2024 17:24:08
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