Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. ‘Don’t dare address me by such a title. ” “DUSTING!” said Miss Miniver, in a sepulchral voice. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. Probably he taught me what a joke was merely to irritate my father; for suddenly Father stopped my going to the store for things and sent our old Kanaka cook instead.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxOS4xNDcuNDggLSAwMS0wNy0yMDI0IDA4OjM5OjM3IC0gMTU2NDg0NjM1NQ==
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