Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. Day by day she followed the spiritual and physical contest between this man and woman.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU5LjE5MS4xMjQgLSAwMy0wNi0yMDI0IDA2OjM4OjM3IC0gNjQyMzM0MjM5
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