The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. The movement was fatal to her son. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. I’ll be waiting for you outside.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU4LjgyLjIxNCAtIDMwLTA2LTIwMjQgMTc6MjQ6MTQgLSAxMjQwNDU4Mzc5
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