“It’s my fault. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. "Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Dutchman, removing the pipe from his mouth, and speaking in a deep and guttural voice, "leave the affair to Johannes. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU4LjEyNS4xNjYgLSAwNi0wNi0yMDI0IDEzOjA1OjQxIC0gMTA2MDYwMjgzNA==
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