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"Miss Harris..."
Faye stood by the door, trembling, and when she saw Iris come out, she softly called to her.
Iris’s face was very pale; her skin was already fair, but now it was translucent white, as if it might dissipate with a breath of wind in the sunlight.
Her damp hair, like seaweed, spread behind her, casting a lazy silhouette over her exquisitely delicate face.
She might not be as glamorous as Viola Harris, but she had a certain charm, like a white pl ...
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