He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. "It is open," replied the lady, rushing towards it, and springing through the outlet. Nothing is settled upon. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. She was like an angel with one wing.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMi4xMTcuMzUgLSAxOC0wNi0yMDI0IDE2OjU4OjAxIC0gMTUyNDgzOTIxMw==
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