The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil. "I read those stories. Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEyNC42MyAtIDEzLTA5LTIwMjQgMDU6Mzc6MDMgLSAxNTc3MTgxNzk2
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 06:57:12
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11