No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. 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. ‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. “Great dears!” said Capes, as the vehicle passed out of sight. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done.
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