‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. It runs about gayly, it romps, it is bright and pretty, it has enormous quantities of soft hair and more power of expressing affection than its brothers. You're alone, too, child.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNi4xNjMuMTk3IC0gMjktMDYtMjAyNCAwNjo0NDozNiAtIDE5MjU4NzM4MjY=
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