“Ask me nothing. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. 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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