His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. We shall have him on his return. The old aspect of the place was gone. Blood, they say, won't come out.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTIuMTUwLjI1MCAtIDE4LTA1LTIwMjQgMTE6MTY6MjggLSAxODUwODI4ODkx
This video was uploaded to g-zaporozhe.info on 16-05-2024 06:42:52
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