He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. “If I cut her neck, you’ll never get the stains out of your fancy car. If she kept on, would she make it out of the door? Then what? He could come after her before she could reach the secret passage. And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. ‘I’m following a scent. Spurling. Like a trollop in heat.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjk4LjE4NiAtIDE4LTA2LTIwMjQgMTY6MzY6MjYgLSAyMDg3MzY1MzAz
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