"Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. ‘And we shall see which of us is more quick. ” “Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. I am already too much flattered that you should have given me your confidence. . I will shed no more blood. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjUzLjIxNiAtIDE5LTA1LTIwMjQgMTc6MTQ6MjEgLSAyMDk2NzAzNDk1
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