The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. ” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. She was delivered home by 11:30pm. ” Anna shook her head. "That I can't say. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. She moved a little nearer to him.
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