Her father was holding her waist, smiling. 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. “To the best of my belief, I have never seen the man in my life.
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This video was uploaded to brazilian-portuguese-translator.info on 09-06-2024 18:45:16
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