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’ Hilary stared. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. " "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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