He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. \" He piped up.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQxLjIwMC42OSAtIDA1LTA3LTIwMjQgMDM6MjE6MzkgLSAxMzc2OTY0MjU3
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