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Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep.
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