\"Ever thought about letting me do something with your hair?\" Not needing an answer, Shari got up and whipped out a vented brush from an overstuffed drawer. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain.
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