“That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. She stood there limply and did not act to resist him. ” The strain in her face was visible as she tried to remember. She was gone. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. Here they were regaled with another plentiful meal by the hospitable carpenter, who personally superintended the repast.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE4OC42LjIwNyAtIDE4LTA1LTIwMjQgMDc6MzE6MTcgLSAxODI2NjUwOTky
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