’
‘Idiot. . . Um. "You came hither under my protection, and you
shall depart freely,—nay, more, you shall have an hour's grace. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's
sober; hands too shaky. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under
modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was
still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all
its peculiar force. ”
“I suppose all IS well that ends well. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist,
then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a
triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and
very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. It was horrible, but she must do it. "
The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her
life to tingle them into action. .
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This video was uploaded to digital-fsi.org on 05-07-2024 13:39:04