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Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. “You remind me of the story which they tell against us over here, you know—of the Englishman who refused to be saved from drowning because he was unacquainted with his rescuer. ’ ‘Well, don’t blame me if you get your head blown off. Yours?" The stranger hesitated. " So saying, he took hold of a ring in the floor, and disclosed a flight of steps, down which he hurried, followed by the janizaries.
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This video was uploaded to jiiney.com on 07-07-2024 14:07:32
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