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He got out of the car and lifted her from the convertible before she could open the door. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. I didn’t understand. Even an unlikely episode such as this could not be ignored.
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This video was uploaded to sportswearcatch.shop on 05-06-2024 13:14:02
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