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It was bad luck to go to Canongate. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. This was the worst summer that I ever had in my life, Europe and all, and I can’t tell you how many times I drove by that Violin Camp hoping to catch a look at you, praying that there wasn’t some horny violin guy waiting to ask you out.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 07-06-2024 14:26:27
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