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5. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. The thought had not even occurred to him. I want to put myself into your hands. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 23:17:21