“Dear me!” he said. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. “With your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. Let me make your future for you.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ5LjI2LjgzIC0gMjAtMDctMjAyNCAwNzoyNjo1MiAtIDY4NzMzNTA5Ng==
This video was uploaded to smicorporate.biz on 16-07-2024 12:40:20
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6