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19 Not Seeing Vermeer That girl, in earring and turban, is half a-tremble to see us. Miranda! I shouted, and she turned, hoping we were a brave new world. We hunger for the startlements, we thirst for the smiling, distant water. I see what you look like now, dear, forever. Keep turning toward us expecting that something will turn up for us all. This page intentionally left blank ...

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