She felt very awkward as she stared at 103 the top of his ashen hair. Her parents left two weeks later, the weather still fine. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs.
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