’ Gerald eyed her with interest. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. She had never been so happy to vomit. And this is not France, you understand. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. The Master of the Mint. Habits and tastes are no longer the same. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQxLjMxLjIyMiAtIDE2LTA2LTIwMjQgMDg6MzQ6MjcgLSAxODIyNTQxNzUy
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