She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ‘Jacques, do not die while I am gone.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjI1NS4xMTMgLSAxOS0wNS0yMDI0IDA2OjA1OjQzIC0gMTA4MzY2NTI5MQ==
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