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Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. "No more, please! I am bewildered enough. But in that reservation it may be she went a little beyond the converse of his view. " Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 17-09-2024 22:25:50
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