“Well?” she said, sitting down again. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. My Mom’s stomach has a lot of bad scars that make it look all ropy and weird. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 21-09-2024 13:05:34