Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. It was a haunted place. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. All your faults are just jolly modelling to make you real and solid. The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjE5My4xMjQgLSAwNC0wNi0yMDI0IDE4OjA4OjM2IC0gOTY4MTEzOTA4
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