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He died in the war. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. 260 “Can you turn me into one?” “Yes, I can turn you into one tonight. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. ‘I must get a handkerchief. And immeasurable was the calm evolved from this knowledge.
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