Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. The doctor had sown a seed, carelessly. ‘You would have a history of my life? Very well. "I'm glad to find I'm right. Will you please—Not now, or I must go. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom.
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