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She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. Kevin Chen, Martin’s father, was equally stately, his dark brown eyes bright with the fire of extreme intelligence. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. So, by way of gaining time, he resolved to question him further. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. Of all the amazing coincidences. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 13:56:16