As he took his departure, he whispered to the Jew: "Take him dead or alive; but if we fail now, and you heard him aright in Seacoal Lane, we are sure of him at his mother's funeral on Sunday. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. "If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. You should go home today and get some rest. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Then, in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and security.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 06:25:32
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