Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. I just don’t know where to start. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. But I will never—never return. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxOC4xMTUuOTkgLSAxOS0wNS0yMDI0IDEyOjMyOjI2IC0gMTY3MTUyODA0OA==
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