Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. ‘It is imbecile that you are. We shall be torn in pieces if we are discovered. . ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 09:53:19
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