. ’ ‘But Marthe, this is idiot. If I am to have no other opportunity I will speak before them. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ5LjI0My4xMjIgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDIyOjU5OjI1IC0gMTU3OTc3ODM4
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