She drew a breath, and sighed it out. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. Probably something he had eaten.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 03-07-2024 08:10:34
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