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I'm no mollycoddle. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 23:00:29