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They bounced without merriment over bumpy Roman roads, and by the time they arrived she was extremely nauseous. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. ” So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 12-06-2024 11:59:59
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