She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. We've ridden post all the way, and I'm horribly tired, or you wouldn't have mastered me so easily.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjE5Ni4xNjMgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDEzOjIzOjU2IC0gMTUxNjA0MDY1Ng==
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