Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. ‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. Clientèle was of the most transitory character. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjE4MC4xMTMgLSAxMy0wNi0yMDI0IDExOjA2OjM2IC0gNjMxNTA3NzE5
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