Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. But it would serve. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full. Blueskin, who had evaded me with the papers and the money, is a prisoner here, and will perish on the same gallows as yourself. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. I do not know. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQxLjIwLjEyMiAtIDIxLTA1LTIwMjQgMDA6MjA6NDMgLSAyNDM2Nzg0NA==
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