This was the worst summer that I ever had in my life, Europe and all, and I can’t tell you how many times I drove by that Violin Camp hoping to catch a look at you, praying that there wasn’t some horny violin guy waiting to ask you out. They must have a key. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. Besides, you've secrets which must not be disclosed. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjIwMi4yMDkgLSAwMS0wNy0yMDI0IDE2OjI0OjU5IC0gOTI5ODUyMzU3
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