To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
“There wasn’t. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold. ‘Espèce de bête,’ she snarled. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. You are not a tourist seeking adventure. Only now it does not matter at all because Joan has come and has seen me. We will get on with the agreement and you shall have in it whatever rubbish you like. Later.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjE5OC41OSAtIDI5LTA5LTIwMjQgMDM6MTY6MDUgLSAxMzcwNzg3NTgz
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 01:13:35