” “I realize I can’t see my mom or brother again. ’ They moved to the door, while the lady shrugged, and then seated herself, glancing from the window into the street below, and then turning again to watch them in their huddle at the other side of the library. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. I must have something in hand. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU4LjMyLjE2NiAtIDI5LTA2LTIwMjQgMDY6NDM6MzUgLSAxOTIxNzY4MTYz
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