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" The Wastrel laughed. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. That’s one thing clear. But this was long ago. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. You will do as I say, or—’ ‘Hoy!’ called Trodger from down the hall. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance.
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This video was uploaded to watchwrestle.com on 21-09-2024 18:41:49
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