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Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. . He opened the drawer of the writing table. Tight. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements.
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This video was uploaded to meteo15jours.net on 23-06-2024 11:28:32
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