To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. ‘Ah, well, we’ll check the back and then go home. Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. ” He struck a note, and Anna responded. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjIxOS4xMzMgLSAxNi0wNi0yMDI0IDIxOjIyOjUxIC0gMTY0NTIwNDUwNw==
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