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He scratched his upper lip reflectively. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments.
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This video was uploaded to extremesport8.info on 26-06-2024 06:04:25
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