The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. " "Miscreants!" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league with him. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. Jonathan is in league with Sir Rowland to make away with you. " "Alas!" cried Mrs. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort.
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