But before he could say anything, the vehicle rolled to a halt. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. At this gate two paths meet. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMS43MC4yMzQgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDIxOjEwOjEyIC0gNjY3MzE1MjA4
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