\"Well, to tell you the truth, John Diedermayer. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. . The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. But he only went home again to Paddington. I'll think no more about her. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. .
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