ph-e-e-w-w

Updated: May 16, 2025

Ph-e-e-w-w!" he whistled, a look of intense admiration sweeping over his leather-like face. "Bot' t'umbs! if that isn't pluck. There isn't a soul but meself'll git ontil it, an' she all but fooled me." The news that Lucretia was sick had got about.

William Alexander Fraser - Thoroughbreds