Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. Aroused by the sound of the church bells, he resolved, at whatever risk, to attend Divine service. As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. After a little further discourse the old man took his departure. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU5LjE0NS4xMjUgLSAxNi0wNy0yMDI0IDExOjIyOjAyIC0gMTI3NDA1ODE3Mg==
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