“I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. In fine, to marry Ruth (if she would consent) as a punishment for what he had done! To whip his soul so long as he lived, but to let his body go free! To provide for her, to work and dream for her, to be tender and thoughtful and loyal, to shelter and guard her, to become accountable to God for her future. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me.
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