The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. I thought Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she heard you was nabbed. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. “Let me get you some water, Annabel. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. ’ ‘We had other matters on hand this morning,’ Roding told him sharply.
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