“I don’t think she will,” she said. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. Something drew you. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 14:41:03