. She looked around her. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. Posts were offered to all who chose to accept them. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter.
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