“For me there is no second turn. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xMzYuMTQ2IC0gMDEtMDctMjAyNCAxOTo1Mzo1MCAtIDc2NjIzOTg4Ng==
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