Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. By this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest of the other robber.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxNi4xNTMuMTg1IC0gMTAtMDYtMjAyNCAxODo0NzozNyAtIDM4Njg1ODMxMQ==
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