The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. He would have sent the Virgin Mary to heal the baby. Sailors would leave them at the trader's. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 22-09-2024 00:35:15
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