” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNi4yOC43NiAtIDI2LTA2LTIwMjQgMTg6MTI6MzAgLSAxMzE0Nzc4MDU1
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