The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. It was drafty and cold most of the time, but she found that she was not nearly as sensitive to the cold as long as he was 99 there to warm her up. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. The next morning she went out with her post-office savings bank-book, and telegraphed for a warrant to draw out all the money she had in the world. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you.
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This video was uploaded to newyorkairportlimo.mobi on 15-07-2024 03:11:53
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