She was certain he would
hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt,
crashing music. Killed is too kind a word. “Forgive me,” he
decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his
hand on hers upon her knee. When things are at the worst, they'll
mend. I wonder,”
he added, after a moment’s pause, “whether you ever realize how young you
are. Good heavens! She was discussing love-making. The summer arrived, speeding the
Plague and with it the famine in the streets. You will be under
the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treat that child for what she is
—an innocent angel—I promise to hunt you across the wide world and kill you
with bare hands.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjIwNC4yIC0gMDctMDctMjAyNCAxNTo1NDoxMSAtIDIwNjQyNTIyMjM=
This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 11:50:52