Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE4OS4xOTQuMzggLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDEzOjA4OjIxIC0gMTY5NzUxNDI5NQ==
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