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Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. ‘Oh, I don’t wish to marry you. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. She did not try to approach him.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 21:19:03
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