A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 08-06-2024 02:47:05
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