On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. This was irregular. It probably had its own repulsive oubliette in the bottom, where tiny princesses could fall and break their necks. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjcuNzMgLSAyMi0wNy0yMDI0IDA3OjQxOjA5IC0gMTMyNDI3ODI4OA==
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