“Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. Instantly seizing it, the young man placed it in the carriage, shut the door, and commanded his servants to drive off. The cloth nearly touches the floor.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE4OC45OC4xNDggLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDA2OjA1OjQ1IC0gMzE2NjU2OTE5
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