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The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. " "It wouldn't surprise me if he did," remarked Griffin. ” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. ” He was silent for some moments.
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