” “Isn’t it. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. But to plunge blindly into the unknown!" "I had to! I had to!" She had told him only the first part of her story. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 18-05-2024 12:51:46
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