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If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. I fancy that Sir John does not approve of me. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 01-06-2024 22:11:57
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