She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. Perhaps the old fool was not as fanciful as they had thought. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. "If there is any honour in you, stop and think. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM2LjIzNC4yMjkgLSAyMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA0OjUyOjMxIC0gMjExNDAxMTk4OA==
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