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167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. I’d only get a pack of lies in reply. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. " "Who?" almost screamed Mrs.
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