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She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. Then she called a hansom and drove home. It was a castoff of Shari’s from her brief obsession with sewing. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. Stanley poured wine. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know. ” “They’ll find out.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 23:16:28