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"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. ’ Shock ripped through Charvill’s chest. In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. He laughs at locks and bolts; and the more carefully you guard your premises from him, the more likely are you to insure an attack.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 03-07-2024 14:39:15
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