” This made her even angrier, so she stopped speaking to him for a week. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. “I just came to you and put myself in your hands. " The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEwOC4yMjAgLSAxOS0wNS0yMDI0IDEzOjE4OjA0IC0gMTQ1MDc3Njgx
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