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Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. She looked steadfastly out. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force.
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This video was uploaded to pornomagia.info on 28-05-2024 14:42:32
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