One Hundred Years of Solitude

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breathed once more the
atmosphere of youth and
festivity that had existed
during the days of the
pianola. No one in the house
had ever been in a better
mood at all hours and under
any circumstances, nor had
anyone ever been readier to
sing and dance and toss all
items and customs from the
past into the trash. With a
sweep of her broom she did
away with the funeral

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