“Okay. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. Distress, deep-rooted, and age old. She took up a book and threw it down again. ” She demanded. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled.
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