And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. "I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. She is, in her way, a dear.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjE2MC4yMjUgLSAyOS0wNi0yMDI0IDEyOjM4OjE3IC0gNTk2NDE2Mjg0
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