’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. ‘Quickly! You must get up. Perhaps you’ve heard—?’ Well, you know, he had. Marine Insurance. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. “She is marvellously clever,” he said. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. He removed his cigarette from his lips and waved it gently in the air. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. And here's the proof.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjEwNy4yNDQgLSAwMy0wNy0yMDI0IDA5OjAxOjUwIC0gOTg0NjcxODQx
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