The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. Martha had not been pleased to find her spare one borrowed for that expedition when the major had found her outside the ballroom. Be frank, I beg you, Miss Pellissier.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 18-05-2024 01:13:56
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