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She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. CHAPTER VII. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. "I yield to fate. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future.
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