If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. ’ She turned her head, eyes blazing. "But, I own, I think it is like. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNy4xMy4yMzYgLSAxNi0wNy0yMDI0IDA1OjU0OjQzIC0gMzczNTkzMzUx
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