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But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. S. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat.
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