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This left Spurlock alone. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. She could think of nothing more to say. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 11:41:29