“You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. . . At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. ‘I can manage now. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what one may not do amongst one’s own set.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 04:05:45
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