No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. There is a railroad. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. "You've ruined my hopes. Gone off, cool as you please, and left me to manage everything. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMTc0LjIzNCAtIDAzLTA3LTIwMjQgMDQ6NDg6MjAgLSAxODg0NjgzODc4
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