” The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. Into the second, denominated the Bilbowes,—also a dismal place,—refractory prisoners were thrust, and placed in a kind of stocks, whence the name. “Are you in the Service?” She asked him. Then there was also the horse. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjI1MC4yNTUgLSAxMy0wNy0yMDI0IDAzOjM1OjQwIC0gOTA3MTM0ODkw
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