" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. I declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. To my loving parents and brothers, and my Aunts, Gail and Barb.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 17-05-2024 03:33:11
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