The latter walked carelessly towards the hatch, and leaning his back against the place whence the spike had been removed, so as completely to hide it, continued smoking his pipe as coolly as if nothing had happened. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. She went to the basement and shed her sodden coat and scarf, tossing them into her favorite modern appliance, the electric dryer. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes.
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This video was uploaded to danilocalvaresi.com on 02-07-2024 14:02:34
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