‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water. . It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. She advanced, stabbing at him.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjgyLjIyNCAtIDAzLTA3LTIwMjQgMjE6MzY6NTYgLSAxOTI5OTI1MTk0
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