We were to ransom you, then we would fake your death, play as if the kidnappers had executed you. Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being served. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. Surely he was imagining this picture. But Enschede took them as they came, without question. She still kicked herself for it. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. “When they tap the roof,” she said, in a voice of authority, “you are to come out. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjEwMi4yMjEgLSAwMS0wNy0yMDI0IDA4OjA3OjI4IC0gODM2MzA0NTkw
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