‘You obstinate little devil. —'How so?' says I. "I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. “It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet ended. “How is that carmine working?” he asked, with a forced interest. . The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjIxMi4yMDcgLSAyMy0wNy0yMDI0IDAwOjQzOjE1IC0gNDI0MDcxNjU2
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