” Shari brushed by her mother in the hallway, who grunted. " And he tossed it carelessly into the bottom of the boat. ” There was genuine interest in her eyes now. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4yMDIuNDEgLSAwMS0wNy0yMDI0IDE2OjU0OjMxIC0gNjU5Nzg5MDcx
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