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But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. Immediately a feathered hat emerged, under which a familiar countenance was visible. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk.

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