He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. Sometimes I try to talk. . . . But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. He could lose himself for hours at a time.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDUyLjE1LjI0My4yMjEgLSAxNC0wNy0yMDI0IDA4OjQ4OjI5IC0gMTA0NDExNjk2Mw==
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