She peered into the darkness. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. “I wouldn’t. Something in her tone made him look up. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. I would speak with you. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. On weighing the matter over, he grew so uneasy that he resolved to descend, and inform him of his misgivings.
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