"You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 08-09-2024 07:43:43
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