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The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same
thick legs. "Go and take your plunge while I attend to breakfast. So I dare say I was christened Jack. I
bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig,
and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside,
having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is
tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. "Take him home, Saunders," said Sir Rowland, resigning his faulty steed to the
attendant's care, "I shall not require you further.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 28-06-2024 11:59:16