A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. At once. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQzLjI0Ny4xNTAgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDE1OjI0OjAzIC0gMTMwNDUzODc3
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