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In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. She was, she guessed, close to the library. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. She hated living like that. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 12-06-2024 11:36:04
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