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“I have not quarrelled with her. ” She said, studying his face, which seemed to lose its childishness a little more with each day. “Mid-thirties. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had.

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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 31-05-2024 05:52:46

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