’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. Of late, he has become the instrument of Walpole, and does all the dirty work for the Secret Committee. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4yMDIuNDEgLSAwNi0wNy0yMDI0IDEyOjMxOjMyIC0gMTY1MjgwODc0OA==
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