" Mr. ’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. Guns were impossible. And, yet, I don't know. That's a most damnable lie; and when she finds out, 'tis then she will not forgive. Her husband finally relented. No one would ever know what happened to him.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMTkyLjE1MiAtIDAxLTA3LTIwMjQgMDc6MjU6MjcgLSA0Mjk2NzI5MzI=
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