I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi42My4yMzEgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDAwOjUyOjMzIC0gMTQ4MzA0MjY0NA==
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