Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. Come along home, Ruth. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Daughters were in the air that day.
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This video was uploaded to www.siulpcatania.it on 18-04-2024 07:56:33
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