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Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. She must kill this man, or kill herself. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. ” He said.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 05-06-2024 16:21:03
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