Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjE0OS4xODAgLSAxMS0wNi0yMDI0IDE0OjUzOjQxIC0gOTAzMDM2MjA4
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