A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. "I'd rather have given a thousand pounds than this had happened. The terror faded from her eyes. "I won't trouble you further, Jack," he remarked. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMC4yNDQuNyAtIDI3LTA2LTIwMjQgMjA6NDk6MjEgLSAxNzY1ODQ5NjAw
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