It is no problem. Something seemed awry. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. He saw now that it was merely a boy. Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. The comments on the makeover lessened but were replaced by long admiring glances by boys who had never before given her the time of day. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. We must never let your father know we went.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEyNS4zNiAtIDAxLTA3LTIwMjQgMDQ6MzQ6MDggLSAxODQyNjM3NTc5
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