Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. She drank it obediently. Well, I told aunt.
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This video was uploaded to practical-tool.shop on 28-05-2024 18:03:38
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