"I'll not believe it. On this elevation a table was now placed, around which sat the turnkeys and their guests, regaling themselves on the fragrant beverage provided by the prisoner. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. She stopped eating. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. All at once she became aware of sounds outside.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4xMzUuMTcgLSAwNC0wNy0yMDI0IDAyOjA4OjMyIC0gMTg3MDk1MzI0Mw==
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