The Reaper is not sated yet. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Before I sit down, I have a toast to propose, which I am sure will be received, as it deserves to be, with enthusiasm. Each time that we meet I try to kill you. The world, she discovered, with these matters barred had no particular place for her at all, nothing for her to do, except a functionless existence varied by calls, tennis, selected novels, walks, and dusting in her father’s house. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ4LjEwMi4xNDIgLSAwOS0wNi0yMDI0IDA2OjQwOjA0IC0gOTMzMDU5MzIz
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