She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. ‘I told you I could handle her. ’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjIwNi45NiAtIDE2LTA2LTIwMjQgMDI6MzE6MTcgLSAxODAwOTE1NjE5
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