But come in, dear. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. One gets drawn into things. 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. He only stays here for you, hoping in vain.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNC41Ny40MyAtIDEwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDM6MTg6MjcgLSAxMjg2NDc1MDIz
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