He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. Understand me. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 03:08:14