’ He paused for the effect of his words to sink in, and then added, ‘Don’t be so ready to show hackle. Pause. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. "Sir Cecil is no more. Can you kill yourself?” He asked quietly. He laughed suddenly, and released her.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxNi4xMzguNTggLSAwMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA1OjI2OjM3IC0gNzcwOTI3OTY0
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