She must kill this man, or kill herself. . She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. " "I'm satisfied with your assurance," replied the carpenter, drily. “You don’t want to go?” “No. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 11-06-2024 23:53:58
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