“I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. Stanley poured wine. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. He handed Ruth a letter. I never see them, they never even call.
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This video was uploaded to brazilianportuguese.biz on 30-05-2024 14:48:13
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