“Mr. He nodded. She must speak to Jack. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. I don't want her hurt. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 21-09-2024 20:14:28
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