Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. We'll get this chap on his feet if only to learn what the trouble is. Perhaps what I need is something to bite in.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTkuMjM0LjE1MCAtIDEzLTA1LTIwMjQgMTU6NDM6MjcgLSAxNjM0MTAzMTQ1
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