’ Kimble’s eyes widened. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. The skipper obeyed, and in another moment, they swept through the narrow lock. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. His perseverance was amply rewarded. Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 23-06-2024 23:07:24
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