She knew it. " It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. Every word you utter puzzles me. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. Come now, I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjE4OS41NyAtIDEwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDg6NTU6NTcgLSAxODMyMzExNzYw
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