I should have thought my note cleared up everything. As matters now stand, I'm only a thief, not a blackguard. . The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. "I can't," answered Blueskin. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. “Was I that bad?” He asked.
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