’ ‘You won’t go to the general then?’ ‘There is no need. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat. Her eyes quizzed the major. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely. He glanced at it, and saw the bloodied blade. I must go perhaps in all the rooms. No mercenary consideration influences me.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 03-05-2024 15:07:51
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