’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. " "I know not how to act," exclaimed Jack, almost driven to desperation. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. He moved slightly, and she went on, with a slight catching of her breath: “It’s a bother and disturbance, but you see—” She had to go through with it now, because she could think of nothing but her preconceived words. As you brew so must you drink. You must forgive the poet’s license I take.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMTU5LjE1NSAtIDMwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDg6NTY6MTUgLSAxODEyMjQ3NDEx
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