" "Have you told her?" "Told her? Told her what?" Spurlock sat straight in his chair. "I hear you plotting with your wicked associates," cried Mrs. “And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjIxNC4xOTQgLSAwOS0wNi0yMDI0IDAxOjA2OjQxIC0gMjM2MjEzMTA2
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