‘R-rien. "Come along, my sly shaver. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. The streets were full of colour. ’ A little sigh escaped her. .
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