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The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. I have worn it for weeks and weeks. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. She was pensive and thoughtful.
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This video was uploaded to sport-caps-making.info on 28-06-2024 07:00:27
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