“What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. You look like a movie star. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Free, there is nothing left to her but the canal. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMTguNSAtIDAyLTA2LTIwMjQgMDM6MjY6NTkgLSAxMjM1MTE0MjQ0
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