Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl (who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was profoundly sad. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 21-07-2024 10:13:24
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