“When one is happy—I don’t like to think of them. I know South America and Canada like the lines in my hand. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp. A cup of lies. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true.
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This video was uploaded to siguava.com on 29-05-2024 15:15:44
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