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"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. I'm always agreeable to the women, bless their kind hearts! Now! slip the purse into my hand. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. F.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 19-09-2024 20:59:56
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