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63 After the Death of Pancho Villa If she’s not visiting his museum to oil the saddle, dust his bronze bust— meticulous with the auricles of his ears and the furrows of his mustache— she tends to be outside with her chickens, away from the procession of visitors who want to inspect the frayed gold insignia he wore on his Stetson, or the five sabers saluting on the wall, who want to know if a small dark spot is blood. ...

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