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"It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. " "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. She looked up quickly.
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This video was uploaded to suzume-news.club on 21-09-2024 14:50:52
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