“Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. He was yellow and coarse of
hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail,
he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of
the fitness of things. Full as she was of him, it felt good to shower
her kill out of her hair. This is a mere boy. Turning off again
on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley,
into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard,
overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning
inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term.
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This video was uploaded to socialwriting.info on 27-06-2024 12:43:38