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Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House. He, next, seized the unlucky jailer, and forced him along, while Blueskin expedited his movements by administering a few kicks behind.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 02-07-2024 02:16:30
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