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. ‘But you do not understand, mon ami. Most of you Americans pattern all Chinese upon those who fill a little corner in New York. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. I—I hurt myself. "I have it too!" exclaimed Hogarth, busily plying his pencil.
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