"What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling us. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. Nice position. “If I do,” he said. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his opinions. She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNC42Mi4xNjAgLSAwOS0wNi0yMDI0IDEyOjIzOjMyIC0gMTgzOTgxMDI2Mw==
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