There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 27-06-2024 10:24:50
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