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On a small shelf near the foot of
the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug
without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a
fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. He will be hanged—hanged—hanged. This person, whose age might be about forty,
was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a
very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees;
black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden
heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time
she followed it up no further. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’
‘Merci. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence.
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This video was uploaded to image.psikolif.com on 04-07-2024 07:56:53