It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. She was the High Priestess. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. It’s an engagement ring.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjE1NS4yMTYgLSAyNi0wNi0yMDI0IDE0OjA2OjA2IC0gMjA2NDM5ODkwNA==
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