I
understand. . ’
‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’
‘Hardly. At times I swear I’ve never met a more
jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen
didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her
out of it. She will not confide in me. It might have been the moon, or the
phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal
loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the
mouth. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. Unless there
was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to
breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he
would become to her an object of pity and contempt.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 19:46:01