Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMjkuMTkgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDIyOjA1OjUwIC0gNzI0NTMxMTIw
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