Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. On Tuesday night, she was rather better, and I had left her for a short time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in the little parlour of which she is so fond —" "Well," exclaimed Jack. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. She decided to go on, after a momentary halt. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. S. It was better even than the hymn-singing. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ4LjExMy4xNTYgLSAyMi0wNy0yMDI0IDEyOjUyOjI2IC0gNzE5NzM1Mjcz
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