His hand flew across the paper. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much. And mind you don't arouse his suspicions. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. ‘More nor that. " On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 30-05-2024 14:23:13
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