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She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. ‘Grace à dieu, he breathes still. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. “No, don’t interrupt me. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. Take my word for it, your troubles are over.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 01-07-2024 23:42:42
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