I came in by the vestry, and we will go out that way again. ‘You will not, pig,’ cried Melusine. 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. Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death.
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