“Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. He lowered himself on to her. " "Wait a bit, massa," replied the grinning negro,—"lilly bit—see all right fust. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. She resolved to walk across the Park to the Zoological gardens, and so on by way of Primrose Hill to Hampstead Heath.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI5LjE5LjI1MSAtIDEwLTA1LTIwMjQgMTQ6Mjk6MjUgLSAxNjM2MjM1Nzc1
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