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I have given up painting. There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Those who act wickedly bring misery on all connected with them. "I never told anybody," she went on. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry.
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