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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. ” Anna was not late, but her heart sank within her when she entered the drawingroom. “Cheveney!” she repeated. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again.
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