She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. This started a thought moving. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch.
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