’ I said. . "Then, the story of his death was false. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. But why this part of the plan now seemed to her quite unattractive was a question she did not care to examine too closely. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTYuMTY2LjExMyAtIDAyLTA2LTIwMjQgMDk6MzE6MzkgLSAxNzU5MTAwMjE1
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