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"I leave this bowl for you," he cried, returning it to the landlord untasted. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. “How is that carmine working?” he asked, with a forced interest. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate.
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This video was uploaded to hkbifen.com on 28-06-2024 21:11:53
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