He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. ’ Melusine did not forget.
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This video was uploaded to pok-ddal23.live on 06-07-2024 03:36:22
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