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She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. ‘Don’t want it to break out bleeding again. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes. She sat, crouched together, by the corner of the hearthrug under the bookcase that supported the pig’s skull, and looked into the fire and up at Ann Veronica’s face, and let herself go.
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This video was uploaded to santiyecadirlari.net on 08-06-2024 11:38:07
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