Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. "I'm sorry," she said. A wedding procession turned the corner. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. Mr. I came to beg you instead to do me the honour of becoming my wife.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQwLjE4NS4xNDcgLSAyOS0wNC0yMDI0IDAwOjE3OjAyIC0gMjA3MjYyNzQ0Nw==
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