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- George Herbert

The harbingers are come. See, see their mark;

White is their colour, and behold my head.

But must they have my brain? must they dispark

Those sparkling notions, which therein were bred?

...

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noun

A fight involving three or more individuals, teams, or factions; fought until one person, team, or faction is left standing.

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Chapter 159 of 365

5 min read

Morning came with its cares and bustle. Everyone got up and began to move about and talk, dressmakers came again. Márya Dmítrievna appeared, and they were called to breakfast. Natásha kept looking uneasily at everybody with wide-open eyes, as if wishing to intercept every glance directed toward her, and tried to appear the same as usual.

After breakfast, which was her best time, Márya Dmítrievna sat down in her armchair and called Natásha and the count to her.

“Well, friends, I have now thought the whole matter over and this is my advice,” she began. “Yesterday, as you know, I went to

Chapter 159

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