“The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. . Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. ’ Rather to his surprise, she obeyed this injunction as he led her up two flights of stairs to the first floor. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1Ljk3LjEyNiAtIDAyLTA3LTIwMjQgMDI6MjM6NTEgLSAxMzkxMDE5ODY1
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