She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Her moods were many and always striking. Here a little delay occurred. Her father had determined on a new line. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. Originally built, as its name imports, in a cylindrical form, like a modern Martello tower, it had undergone, from time to time, so many alterations, that its symmetry was, in a great measure, destroyed. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjE0MS4xMTggLSAyMC0wNS0yMDI0IDA0OjEzOjA4IC0gODIzOTg1OTAw
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