As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. ” “I promise,” Annabel declared. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 08:52:25