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doc#95 | , 80, her maiden aunt, |
doc#148 | her face, her smile that was |
doc#133 | was frowzy, her dress torn in |
doc#133 | at him, her eyes wide as |
doc#132 | marginal income, her defense of denial |
doc#113 | her past, her succession of broken |
doc#140 | and then, her breath returning in |
doc#133 | sat up, her hands going to |
doc#140 | she walked, her steps fumbled from |
doc#115 | the wife, her husband has achieved |
doc#133 | and angry. </p><p> Her blond hair was |
doc#133 | say anything. Her eyes were glazed |
doc#140 | her back. Her own body protested |
doc#95 | for bail. Her young British lawyer |
doc#140 | her clothes. Her arm bled slightly |
doc#148 | like crush. Her mouth, which |
doc#148 | glass door. Her form was silhouetted |
doc#89 | bedroom floor. Her husband was lying |
doc#133 | she looked. Her face was very |
doc#148 | fascinate me. Her legs were the |