His face was downcast. ‘Because I love you. Fortunately, I've secured the proof of my birth. K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. “I meant it. “Soon enough, John. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. That paper must be signed, or I take my departure. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. He was not sure that the boy had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed that way. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut. Here he was hotly pursued. ” The corners of her mouth rose in a weak smile and she gave him a wink.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjE5My4xODEgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDEzOjIzOjQ4IC0gOTYzMTYyOTQx
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