’ Even as they watched, a shadow passed across one of the apertures. There was no one stirring in the flats. ‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French. Winny, my love, come with me. He forces an engagement upon her. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. ‘And we shall see which of us is more quick. I do not know.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjgyLjE1NCAtIDIxLTA5LTIwMjQgMjA6MjI6NDYgLSAxMTEzMjA1MTA0
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 17-09-2024 13:43:26
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