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I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. ” “Rum,” said Ann Veronica. Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos.

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