Shari was snoring, the pill having worked its magic. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 05-06-2024 06:40:45
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