"More than you'll pay for it, friend," snuffled the Jew. Give me the chisel, Blueskin. I was—I was a corespondent. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother. And I've already told you the accident was not Jack's fault. I shall be very sorry if I cannot have you for a friend.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNC42NS4xMDYgLSAwMi0wNy0yMDI0IDAzOjA4OjE1IC0gMTM0NzI0NjI3OA==
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