“There is no time for that. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. " "Swear it!" "I do. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. He had something across his knees. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ2LjEwNy4yMzUgLSAwOC0wNi0yMDI0IDE5OjEzOjAyIC0gNzI5MzQzMjA3
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