She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. ” He looked at her very gravely. I’ve had enough of it. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. ‘Can’t see a thing. After a while he spoke again. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MC4yMTkuMzIgLSAyMy0wNi0yMDI0IDIyOjUxOjM2IC0gNzI1NTQzNDIy
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