She touched it, and her gaze lifted. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. I said I’d do anything. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat. I stole away and walked to the railway station. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjQ3LjgyIC0gMTgtMDUtMjAyNCAxMTowNjozNSAtIDQzNzg0NjM2NA==
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