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The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. In the morning and at night he is dressed as he would dress in the big hotels. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. 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. He unhooked it from the front clasp. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone.
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This video was uploaded to ssibasmatirice.com on 01-06-2024 12:31:14
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