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’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. “May I hear?” “It really isn’t much to tell,” Drummond answered. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 09:06:03