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Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. ’ ‘She behaved like a madwoman,’ Hilary declared roundly. I’m not a psycho. The faithful fellow will never leave me. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. " "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. It's too hard.
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