Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 06-06-2024 07:38:51
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