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He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 15-05-2024 06:50:51
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