" "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. “I always get off here and lean over that rail for a bit. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. Damn! I’ve splashed. Wait a moment. From a man, who was standing beneath the shade of one these noble trees, information was obtained that the horsemen had ridden along the Harrow Road.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 22-07-2024 08:58:57
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