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... d of birdsong and the fragrance of flowers, this phrase suddenly surfaced in her mind.

She pushed open the window to check the sky and realized it was nearly noon. Living here, it was easy to lose track of time. After all, there was nothing urgent to do—what did it matter if she rose early or late?

With a clear conscience, she flopped back onto the bed, only to spring up again like a carp leaping from water. Who said there was nothing to do?

After tidying herself up, she ...

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