" "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. People sat in unusual pews, and a wide margin of hassocky emptiness intervened between the ceremony and the walls. Plote was sleeping or deaf. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. But it was extraordinary what seemingly irrelevant things could restore her to the thought of Capes again. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjMwLjIxNyAtIDA5LTA2LTIwMjQgMTI6Mjc6MzIgLSA5NDY2OTc0
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