She would just have to show up and hope for the best. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 18-05-2024 09:57:28
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