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Perhaps
I
will
die
too,
she
told
herself,
and
the
thought
did
not
seem
so
terrible
to
her.
If
she
flung
herself
from
the
window,
she
could
put
an
end
to
her
suffering,
and
in
the
years
to
come
the
singers
would
write
songs
of
her
grief.
Her
body
would
lie
on
the
stones
below,
broken
and
innocent,
shaming
all
those
who
had
betrayed
her.
Sansa
went
so
far
as
to
cross
the
bedchamber
and
throw
open
the
shutters,
but
then
her
courage
left
her,
and
she
ran
back
to
her
bed,
sobbing.
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