Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. Then she went into the office. His voice now had lost its ironies. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby.
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This video was uploaded to dasthailandforum.com on 05-07-2024 20:12:53
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