If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. His fears supplied him with unwonted vigour. At the farther end of the Lodge, the floor was raised to the height of a couple of steps; whence the whole place, with the exception of the remotest corner of the angle before-mentioned, could be commanded at a single glance. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. Then her eyes flashed. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy.
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This video was uploaded to dogtrainingengineering.online on 02-06-2024 11:15:33
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