" "I shouldn't call her queer. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. He hated horizons. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. ” He seemed to be elaborating ideas as he talked. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjIyNi4yMDMgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDE4OjE2OjM1IC0gMTYxODEzNDQ1Nw==
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