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She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Of course, at home there would have been questions. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxOS4yNDQuMTIgLSAwMS0wNi0yMDI0IDIyOjM4OjQ1IC0gMzEyOTA4Nzk3

This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-05-2024 23:41:55

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