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The cat who ate the canary. It was a sweltering Easter Sunday in London. Behind a green pattern of flowery curtains and into her little red-painted studio, cheerful voices of people going to a beer garden nearby or Regents park floated in the air mixed with the buzz of cars and buses. Days of idleness caught her unprepared. Her thoughts bounced around the walls. The cat who ate the canary.
Ya Un p3U D3 tOuT d3s mAnGaS. Please enter the sequence of characters in the field below. Please enter the sequence of characters in the field below. Add this video to my blog.
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