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‘I must. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. She was no longer there. What CAN she put before that?” His voice began to rise. ” She paused. “It was such a surprise to see you.
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