‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot. ‘As for you—’ ‘Do not address me. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. What you’re after is too risky.
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