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You’ve done her a service to teach her that romantic love is largely made of illusion.” [said Mina.] “Is it?” Alessandra asked, unable to suppress a worried sigh. Mina looked at her as if she knew exactly what Alessandra was thinking. “I said ‘romantic love,’ my dear–not true love.” “But how can one know,” asked Alessandra, “one from the other?” “True love,” said Mina, “is something that reveals itself only with the passage of time.
