An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. The back of the house had been the Alps for climbing, and the shrubs in front of it a Terai. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjQ5LjI1MiAtIDA5LTA2LTIwMjQgMDE6MDY6NDIgLSAyMTMwNTA5NTk1
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