He was a manly man,
free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty
bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. Seizing her hand he covered it with kisses. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps
and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in
and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from
the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or
embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the
window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. Ruth Enschede, Hartford, Conn.
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This video was uploaded to wtaarchitects.com on 05-09-2024 23:20:25