Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Now, he must have folks somewhere. “You are persuaded to come and take part in these outrageous proceedings— many of you, I am convinced, have no idea whatever of their nature. He's settling an account in the house. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMC43My4xMzEgLSAyOS0wNi0yMDI0IDEyOjA0OjE0IC0gODI0MTIzMzI4
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