“Been sitting on the doorstep almost for two hours. I hid because there was no other way of seeing you. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. “Yes, he made them all. And you have stolen my dagger. I didn’t believe him and I said so. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. “Not much,” he answered, “and yet about all there is to be known, I fancy. But it’s as you say. It’s a thing that’s happened to you. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. You skulk in shadows, following an émigré. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMS43NC43MSAtIDEyLTA3LTIwMjQgMDI6MjY6MDAgLSAxOTM3NDQ1Njk4
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