Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM2Ljk3LjEyNiAtIDAyLTA2LTIwMjQgMTc6NDM6NDUgLSAxMTk1NTkzMTI4
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