As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. “A lady, Dunster. ” “Why not? Your spirits at least should be good. I can’t forget about your sister. K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEzNC4yMjkgLSAxMS0wNi0yMDI0IDA4OjEzOjM1IC0gMTk3NDA3ODMwOQ==
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