She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Then he goes stony, and beats his way around the islands for another three months.
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This video was uploaded to twincitieshomes.info on 19-09-2024 02:04:06
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