"It's an odd-shaped one," rejoined Kneebone, examining it attentively. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjQyLjIwMCAtIDMwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDM6MjI6NDYgLSAxMDk2NjcxMDI5
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