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‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. The streets were full of colour. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. I had a hunch. The children made us slaves, and the men took advantage of it. You were dying and your baby along with you. You don’t know about Mary because you live in Kent.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 27-06-2024 14:44:10
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