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... in its motion, then, pinching the box, slowly retracted.
"Take it back, you old rascal!" Jane Sampson huffed as she hurled a whole box at James Black’s chest.
Her so-called old rascal caught the stuff with ease, and, striding forward on his long legs, approached her. Jane turned her head and bolted.
James stopped in his tracks and stood there, watching Jane’s retreating figure, his lips curving into a smirk.
If you’ve got the nerve to yank a tiger’s whiskers, then ...
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