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. "Where is he?" he cried. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. ” She implored him. ” “I will think of it,” she promised. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. I cannot go on. \"Yes, I'd love to go.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTYuNjkuNjkgLSAyOC0wNi0yMDI0IDAwOjMwOjA2IC0gNzAyNzM5MjEz
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