Margaret Henson squinted. She had forgotten about the video.
Diana Grant saw that she did not speak, thinking that she had finally grasped the person.
"Mr. Moore always asks me about you.
Diana Grant looked contemptuous as she wiped the water from her cheeks. "You're just a little designer now, you say Mr.?". If Moore knew where you were, would he come after you? After all, when he did not eat people to the mouth, regrettably tight, he missed you for a long time.
As soon as the voice fell, Margaret Henson asked, "Isn't it a video?"
Without waiting for Diana Grant to answer, she reached out and pushed him into the cubicle.
After all, Diana Grant was thirty-five years old, and her physical quality was not as good as Margaret Henson's, so she fell down directly.
"Margaret Henson! What do you want to do?!