“I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. He did his best not to grin. A door slammed. He kissed her lightly on the lips. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture.
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This video was uploaded to tructiepcauthongthuongde.org on 20-09-2024 13:13:01
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