Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. . Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNS45NS4yMDAgLSAyNi0wNi0yMDI0IDEyOjE0OjA5IC0gMTgzMTcwNjYxOA==
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