[ She flinches, as if rather than delivering a handful of desperate words he'd struck her, and everything she had been holding in her stillness comes through the crack. Now she snatches her hand back, is on her feet quick enough that the tray rattles in her wake and is moving swiftly for the door heedless of her state of dress, of her feet hitting the stones bare.
Let them eat cake, be happy. What is she but impediment to their better lives. ]
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Let them eat cake, be happy. What is she but impediment to their better lives. ]