“Hey you,” he said affectionately. He filled the rôle of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not utterly as he would have liked. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjIuMjMgLSAxNi0wNy0yMDI0IDA5OjIyOjIzIC0gNTcxNDg4NjQy
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