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‘And how is it that you have acquired this garb of a religieuse?’ he asked as she fitted the veil over her head. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. Taber? There is a possibility. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes.

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This video was uploaded to smicorporate.biz on 31-05-2024 10:01:57

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