"And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you. ‘Bête. . . A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjE5Ny4yMTIgLSAxMy0wNi0yMDI0IDExOjUwOjUyIC0gOTUzNjkzNDIz
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