“Mr. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. ” John peered at her as she went to him. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. This was what he missed. I’m leaving you, and you can’t stop me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMjEuMTA2LjIwNCAtIDAyLTA2LTIwMjQgMjI6NTk6NDEgLSA5OTQxMzkzNA==
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