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The elements were wrathful as their passions. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. I'm not hungry. She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room.
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