Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. For that such a man does not mind about the dowry, he must be in love en désespoir. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4xNDguMzYgLSAwMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA1OjMzOjIzIC0gODc3MjQ0OTY3
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