’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. 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. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. "She is saying that you, a woman, will readily understand the position in which she finds herself.
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