” He replied cheerfully. I can't give you my hand; but you may take it. "There's only one way out of the muddle, that I can see. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. " "I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a smile. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. “I’m really very sorry.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 02-07-2024 11:00:46
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