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Katherine was gone for a short time. Returning with her eyes wet by no means from tears, she fell on her knees in front of the table, where the maids were bustling about, and, piously folding her hands, she muttered prayers so that everyone could hear her. Someone, coming to their senses, sent for the priest. Katerina ran a clean handkerchief over the duchess's cheeks and torn lips. Then she rubbed her forehead and, pretending to want to say goodbye to her for the last time, leaned low towards him. The handkerchief disappeared into the folds of her dress. As if by magic, small scissors appeared in her hands. And she imperceptibly cut off a strand of hair from the head of the deceased. Then, just as deftly blocking her manipulations of her grieving body, she tucked the scissors and curl into her sleeve. Then, wiping non-existent tears, she pulled away and turned to those around her, again folding her hands in prayer, showing everyone that she had nothing in them. She again, so tha
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