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You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. " "And with some justice," replied Thornhill, drily. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. “I wonder if I’ve been properly brought up. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but he is no longer a man but a child. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. "I wonder if you will understand what this kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise—and so wofully ignorant!" CHAPTER XII The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his elbow.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 02-07-2024 04:17:01
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