“Looks like old times here, I see. " "You believe it, father?" "From the bottom of my heart. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. The touch of her hands was pleasurable. The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMi4xOS4xMTEgLSAwMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA1OjQ2OjQ1IC0gMTAyNDI3MzYzMw==
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