"Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. "Noblemen. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. Mr. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. It never has had. Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. Her hair is like, white blonde, but trust me, it’s not her natural color.
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