Nero, nonchalantly fiddling a trifling accompaniment to the burning of Rome, had nothing on Moses, as that blithe-hearted boy whistled a joyous, albeit unmelodious, lilt to the devastation of Betty’s picture show box.
rayban aviator sunglasses, “You keep still, Betsey! I’m going to watch!” he exclaimed, as if some one had spoken.
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rayban aviator sunglasses “Mar,” he demanded hastily, “more marshed turnips, please.”.
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