"May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. Once more he was the searcher. It was time to get up.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE4OC4yMjcuMzMgLSAxMy0wNy0yMDI0IDAyOjUzOjUwIC0gMTY3MDUyNDUwMA==
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