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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Beth Norvell A Romance of the West"

Si, si, eet vas all joy for Mercedes, now, my senor. Eet
not hurt, eet make me glad to know."
Brown bent ever lower as he listened, his great body shaking in the
effort to repress his sobs, his lips pressing against her white cheek.
"I kiss you now, senor," she whispered, faintly. "Just de once, like I
vas your vife."
Their lips met, the very soul of each seemingly in the soft, clinging
contact. Suddenly the poor girl sank backward, her head falling
heavily upon his supporting arm, a peculiar shudder twitching her
slender form.
"Mercedes!" he cried in alarm.
"Si, senor," the black eyes still wide open, but her words scarcely
audible. "Eet is so hard to see you; maybe de stars hide behin' de
cloud, but, but I lofe--"
"Yes, y-yes, I kn-know."
She lifted her arms, then dropped them heavily upon his bowed shoulders.
"Dar is such a brightness come, senor. Eet light everyting like eet
vas de day. Maybe I be good too, now dat a good man lofe me; maybe de
God forgif all de bad because I lofe.


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rozne sprzedam mieszkanie kraków Gry odzyskiwanie danych warszawa odzież ciążowa