She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. "Leave him to me," he said. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. So dreadful were these shouts as to produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of Jonathan, who shrank out of sight.
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This video was uploaded to zbrushcore.club on 20-09-2024 18:54:19
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