“We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. Her normally shiny hair was 143 stringy and flat. Her mother…. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. She hunted the markets for bread and treats so they could feast during the day. She won’t be a problem from now on.
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