There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. . Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Everything was going to hell. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1Ljk3LjEyNiAtIDAzLTA3LTIwMjQgMDg6MjM6NTMgLSAxODAwMTA5Mjk2
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