The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. “Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. “The things involved in it are,” he answered gravely. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. A common rage flushed their faces.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjEzNC4zMyAtIDA5LTA2LTIwMjQgMTk6Mjc6MTcgLSAxMDIxNzk2OTE5
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