‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. Come back—you must come back. Not fit to be dust on your boots. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxNi4yMzAuNjUgLSAwMS0wNy0yMDI0IDE5OjQ5OjQ1IC0gNTU1NjE3NDk0
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