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I take their life. They did not spend most days together. I feel at moments as though I could bolt for it. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off.
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This video was uploaded to christine-5.info on 19-05-2024 05:56:29
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