The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. “How’s the star?” John’s father asked. All this torrent of misleading, spurious stuff that pours from the press. But she did not bother her head very much about her relations with these sympathizers. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. Our land brings us in nothing.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMTQwLjIyMiAtIDE0LTA5LTIwMjQgMDg6MjE6NTQgLSAzMzU0NTgwNDI=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 14:34:54
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9