Now all the indescribable hard work Anne had put in, days spent just getting one box of books unpacked into a bookshelf, weeks spent corralling a single slippery haystack of paper into the regimentation of hanging files—no one who had not spent hours in her company understood how long it took Anne to perform even the lightweight tasks to which she was limited, how each separate book, each handful of paper, had to be cajoled into place by hands and arms that were starting to insist on their own cajoling, after decades of uncomplaining compensation for those bum legs and feet—had been erased at
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