He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. But she did not bother her head very much about her relations with these sympathizers. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted. “I did,” Anna answered. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. I was not even sure whether it was loaded.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMjEuMTU5LjE4OSAtIDI2LTA2LTIwMjQgMDY6MTQ6MDQgLSAxOTA5NTcxNjEw
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