And at the sight something leaped within her. “Anna of course would not accept any money from us,” she continued. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. "When I am dead you will learn it. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. It’s no good hiding it any more. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNy4xMy4xMTIgLSAwMy0wNy0yMDI0IDIwOjI3OjQ2IC0gMTA1MDg4ODgxNQ==
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