"Miss Mona, come in; the tay will be cold, an' the rashers all spoiled, an' the masther's callin' for ye."
Big-Mumbai, There is no disfigurement about him to be seen, no stain of blood, no ugly mark; yet he is touched by the pale hand of the destroyer, and is sinking, dying, withering beneath it. He has aged at least ten years within the last fatal hour, while in his eyes lies an expression so full of hungry expectancy and keen longing as amounts almost to anguish.
◆ Messages, Voice
Big-Mumbai, Video
Big-Mumbai
Enjoy voice and video
Big-Mumbai Do paint the meadows with delight.".
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