The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. If only we work together. I want to be very plain with you. Set the boy free.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 01-06-2024 20:38:54
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