"There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. The decision had been sound. "If you don't stop its squalling, I will. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. The main idea now is of the future. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. It was the girl.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQzLjI0NC4xMjMgLSAwOS0wNi0yMDI0IDE0OjMwOjQ3IC0gMTA3OTQ5NzIxMw==
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