“Why not?” He asked. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 00:05:55
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