Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. There was no rush. It was locked. You don’t want to miss the sport. . It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. I’m rather scornful. “If he is not here now I can make myself safe. “Let’s go outside.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNy44LjE3NSAtIDA1LTA3LTIwMjQgMDM6NTU6MzcgLSAxODY1NTcwNTA4
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