She tried not to notice how much attention Martin Chen had been paying her, but he had been bold enough to speak to her the other day. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. “The very question shows your ignorance,” he declared. She breathed deeply. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. To be sure," he added, lowering his tone, "they wos little 'uns, and one on 'em was smothered—ough! ough!—how this cough chokes me!" Sheppard, meanwhile, whose hands were at liberty, managed to possess himself, unperceived, of the spike of a halbert, which was lying, apart from the pole, upon a bench near him.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4yNTQuMTIgLSAwOS0wNi0yMDI0IDEyOjUzOjE5IC0gMTc3NjAwMTYwOQ==
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