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The cards were very old, they must be - their box was half dust, and the room the /Chest? was in had been sealed ever since they had lived in the /House?. Even so, they looked as though they had been painted yesterday. Definitly painted, in some sort of oil paint, /Anna could feel the rough texture the brush strokes had left. Spreading the /Cards out in the dust, /Anna arranged them into their five suits. Ten cards in each - and all with strange pictures on them. In her hand, she held the last, numbered /Eleven, and depicting a /Butterfly.
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