And sometimes he
overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect,
upon any topics that had the courage to face it. Then
one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,”
and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the
words penetrated to her understanding. You're an angel of goodness. "The key," replied the widow. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and
solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. His arms released from his
68
sides, he lifted them around her in a light embrace. He needed to
laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. She went to her bedroom, but
she did not go to bed. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything. I’d need to be out of my senses.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 23:16:08