’ ‘Also madame his wife—’ Charvill’s gorge rose. ‘That is not your affair. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. We'll have him yet. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. It was open. Anything. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMy4xMDcuMzIgLSAxNi0wNi0yMDI0IDExOjI3OjA5IC0gODI3NzU2OTUy
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