She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations around the table. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. Jack turned away with an aching heart. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. Rubbishy novels and pernicious rascals.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi4yNC4xMzEgLSAyOS0wNi0yMDI0IDEyOjQ0OjI1IC0gMTc1ODAxMTQyNQ==
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