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She held out her hand frankly. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Their faces had bite marks that were hers. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. Anna sent her away. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. And this time the departure had a tremendous effect of finality. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her.

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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 28-03-2024 11:29:32

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