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... seemed to be crying, but she made no sound. I watched her quietly. The untouched teacups sat as the ice inside them melted and clinked softly. The sunlight streaming through the window gradually shifted.

"I do not like to see people cry," I said.

At that moment, she lifted her head. Her eyes were moist, but no tears fell, just as she said.

"I was moved by your praise," Sylvia explained. "Professor Deculein, you are known for never complimenting anyone."

Her voice ...

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