Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. ’ ‘But I have told you not,’ she protested. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled.
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