Taking the light, they then proceeded along the passage. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. Now, Sir. Earles. But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. “Even Katy Pfister can’t touch you now. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTYuNjkuNjkgLSAyNi0wNi0yMDI0IDEzOjUzOjQzIC0gNzg1MzgxMDE5
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