Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. He filled his pipe slowly. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. ‘Gérard!’ Before she could react to this new menace, the captain spun round.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 16-05-2024 18:02:58
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