‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. \" He piped up. ‘Let her go. ” Lucy yanked him into the hidden door to Room 109, a door to the backstage that looked like the entrance to a broom closet. “You’re still,” he said, “in the educational years. That won’t involve references, as a bank account would—and all that sort of thing. There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing. ” He said while grabbing her hands and 229 jerking her to her feet like a puppet, callously.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjUzLjIxMSAtIDE0LTA3LTIwMjQgMDg6MzQ6MjQgLSAxOTM4NjExOTIx
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