« I saw a very beautiful Baccarat chandelier. So far, so normal ! The nit began to rain on the chandelier. How odd ! The chandelier, still identifiably Baccarat, opened a large, white umbrella and drifted skywards. I shouted « Why ? » And from afar came the chandelier’s response : « Because I am Marie Coquine, and because everything is possible in a dream ».
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