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’ She bit her lip, frowning. . " "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. She could not run, her limbs were frozen. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 24-09-2024 19:30:46
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