“Well?” she said, sitting down again. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Lucy heard a stir, but if Dawn Plote were to arise and come into the room, it could only mean two murders tonight. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjE4NC4xMDEgLSAyMS0wNy0yMDI0IDIzOjIwOjM0IC0gMTU5MzMzNjUwNg==
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