“It’s the spring,” he said. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMC4yMjUuMjEgLSAxMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA5OjE0OjI3IC0gMTk1OTY2NjA5Ng==
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