” She shook her fist ceilingward. The Storm VII. I didn't mean it. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. She turned a resolute face southward. It came again. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers.
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