The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know. A common rage flushed their faces. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. We came on here at once. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 08-06-2024 10:35:25
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