” “Why do you think so?” she asked. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. I hate what I have to do to survive. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. ‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQuMjU1LjE5MCAtIDIzLTA2LTIwMjQgMDY6MDY6MDQgLSAxNjgwNTUzMDk4
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