They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. Nothing could occupy her attention long today, unless it concerned her situation. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. When you reach San Francisco, you can buy something more appropriate.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 21-09-2024 21:30:22
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