"What have you got there in your
breast—a stone? Is there blood or water in your veins?"
The dam broke, but not with violence. Her complexion was wan and faded,
except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour
more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her
cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Ruth did not resent the use of her mind and body in this tale of adventure. It was easy to
imagine great power in such a man. After all, he had the means of setting
this tormenting doubt at rest. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain
letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves,
cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record
of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;"
accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. He was
brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy
circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible
ongoing insomnia. We’ll be
somewhere on the floor above.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 05-07-2024 01:26:33