I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. It was drafty and cold most of the time, but she found that she was not nearly as sensitive to the cold as long as he was 99 there to warm her up. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxNy4xOTUuMjUxIC0gMDItMDYtMjAyNCAwNTozNjozNiAtIDI1NzMzNTU2Ng==
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