" Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. It was time to leave America. But nobody drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. ‘Yes, that is reasonable. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. I rarely set foot in London these days. I will not be persecuted in this way by you.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQuMTM2LjIyMyAtIDIzLTA4LTIwMjQgMTE6Mzg6MDggLSAyMDAzNjg2NTMw
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