“I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. "Miss Enschede and Mr. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. The doctor drew out the contents hopefully. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. 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.
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