She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. I was one of the few. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQxLjQyLjI1MyAtIDAxLTA3LTIwMjQgMDg6NTE6MDkgLSAxMzI4ODExNTc5
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