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” “For you. . You should have more. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. . Rummage, my boy, do. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. " "Ah. “Thank you—and good-bye.
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This video was uploaded to ssibasmatirice.com on 05-07-2024 10:48:00
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