To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. It’s a world in which the law can be a stupid pig and the police-stations dirty dens.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxOC44My40NCAtIDMwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDk6MzU6MTIgLSAxNzU2NzczMjE1
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