He opened the drawer of the writing table. Moreover, atrociously and inexorably, he allowed it to appear ever and again in horrible gleams that he suspected there was some man in the case. Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMjI2LjIzOSAtIDA5LTA2LTIwMjQgMjA6NDM6MDMgLSAxNTkyNzY3MTg2
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