. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. It simply doesn’t count. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. . She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. He gave you a poison.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjE5MS4xODQgLSAyMS0wNy0yMDI0IDA2OjQ3OjAzIC0gMzc0NDA3NzUz
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