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A new black crochet dress. It's beautiful.
"Susan," said Mrs. Miniver, "where did that knitting come from? I swear you didn't have any on you a minute ago. I believe you materialise bits of knitting out of thin air, the way conjurers do with lighted cigarettes." "No," said Susan, "they grow out of my finger-tips, like a thread out of a spider." From Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther
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