361dy【最新」▃入口】

rst in Dominic’s361dy voice. His hand on the tiller and361dy his fearless eyes roaming the horizon from wi361dythin the monkish hood shadowing his face, he would utter the usual exordium of his remorseless wisdom: “Vous autres gentilhommes!” in a caustic tone that hangs on my ear yet. Like Nostromo! “You hombres finos!” Very much like Nostromo. But Dominic the Corsican nursed a certain pride of ancestry from which my Nostromo is free; for Nostromo’s lineage had to,