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He had looked at it before without comprehension. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. Do not be a fool, Jacques.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 25-06-2024 10:57:23
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