The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. I am a murderer. “I’ll get a towel. ” “You are marvellously like your brother,” Anna said, beaming upon him. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ’ The pathetic sob which accompanied the last word had a signal effect on two of the company at least.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjE5Ny4xMDIgLSAzMC0wNi0yMDI0IDAzOjA3OjM3IC0gNjcyMzk0MDU1
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