To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. My only love is for my poor lost son. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. "Take her," cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQxLjIwMC4xODAgLSAwNS0wNS0yMDI0IDIyOjUxOjM5IC0gNTg1MTU1Mzgy
This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 05-05-2024 15:40:14
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6 - Resource Map: 7 - Resource Map: 8 - Resource Map: 9 - Resource Map: 10