Her hair is like, white blonde, but trust me, it’s not her natural color. ’ The old man simply stared at her. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. Most of my successes in life have been made with a sort of reckless vigor. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound.
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