Emily Dickinson's Revolutionary and Reclusive Life....
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“What does she look like?” I said. “The lady in the yellow house?”
“I don’t know, my dear. Not many see her face-to-face. They say that she is small, though, and that she dresses always in white.”
We moved from pot to pot. He plucked the wilted petals as he went.
“Is she lonely, do you think?”
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