. . Then the storm broke. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. . “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU4LjE4Mi4zOSAtIDE5LTA1LTIwMjQgMDU6Mzk6MzcgLSAxMzY5MjExMTI0
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