Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. It was immediately opened by a man with light eyelashes and a manner suggestive of restrained passion. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. In the afternoon he probably loafs in his pajamas. She has given herself up to social work.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4yMjcuNjkgLSAyNy0wNC0yMDI0IDIxOjUzOjIzIC0gODEyOTQzMjE1
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