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“I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. “I was frightened then,” she declared. “If only her sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians talking. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him. . Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 31-05-2024 11:23:55
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