” They entered the place, a pleasant little café of the sort to be met with in the outlying parts of Paris. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. After that time, I shall place my setters on your heels. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTkuNTYuNDUgLSAwMi0wNS0yMDI0IDAxOjI0OjQwIC0gMTk4Njc5NDM0
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