Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. ’ He bowed. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. He wouldn’t like it if people did it to him. This she put into the trunk. Kneebone.
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