’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air.
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This video was uploaded to dogtrainingengineering.online on 01-06-2024 03:52:17
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