“You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. You are in danger. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. He seemed to have expected them. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. For a space he rode the whirligig. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight. " Ruth did so, but without any particular fervour. Or run me through.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjExNC4xMDEgLSAwMS0wNy0yMDI0IDA4OjIyOjEzIC0gMTI3ODA5MzUzMg==
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