She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. It’s to do with adolescence. His smile faded. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. "I disbelieve the whole story you have told me. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. The back windows of the houses (where any such existed) were strongly barricaded, and kept constantly shut; and the fortress was, furthermore, defended by high walls and deep ditches in those quarters where it appeared most exposed. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjIwMi45MiAtIDI3LTA2LTIwMjQgMTI6NDk6MjIgLSAxMDU0NDk4OTk0
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