“Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. What you said wanted saying. He’ll survive. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. "The long and the short o' the matter's this then," returned Sharples with dignity, "the Markis begs your acceptance o' ten guineas to drink his health. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjEwMy4xNSAtIDE4LTA1LTIwMjQgMDY6NDQ6MDkgLSAxODM2NzIxNjIw
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