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Then she shrugged. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. He made the universe on those lines. . “He knows. She addresses you as the Flower of the Lotus, as the Resplendent Moonbeam. " "I shouldn't call her queer.
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