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Come, mon ami, come!’
Ever faithful, Kimble dragged himself into a sitting position, gasping at the
pain this caused him. Ruth could not be told now. “You have succeeded a little too well in your personation,” she said bitterly, “to
get rid very easily of Mr. ”
Brendon leaned over confidentially. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that
she must not disturb him in this man-agony. She was
dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness:
her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady,
and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 03:10:13