‘She didn’t behave in the least like an émigré, if these people are anything to go by. "If you knew how much importance I attach to your answer," he continued passionately, "you would not refuse me one. What! mum still. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjE2MS4xNTUgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDA3OjE5OjI5IC0gMTA5ODA2MzIzNw==
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