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Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Be honest, and you will be happy. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 18-09-2024 15:06:53
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