All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. “I don’t think she will,” she said. It is a very good English name, no? But who is she?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, I should say,’ said Mrs Ibstock, correcting herself. It was easy for him to see that she desired to be agreeable to him. . I’m anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjEwNC4xODEgLSAwMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA0OjM5OjAzIC0gMTcyNDIwMTg4OA==
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