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"Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard.
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This video was uploaded to siguava.com on 10-06-2024 08:44:53
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