Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention.
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This video was uploaded to hkbifen.com on 21-07-2024 15:17:53
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