She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. You’re dogmatic. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. Sheppard's ward, Sir. How to hold her, how to keep her at his side; this was the problem with which he struggled. ” He paused.
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