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He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 30-05-2024 19:50:14
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