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I haven't stopped shivering since I awoke. The wind rages outside and the mere sound and the swirling snow makes me shiver within. I have taken the iron key and I wear it around my neck as a sort of trinket. Maybe someday I will meet the mysterious man who lingered beneath my willow tree. For now, I am content to stay inside the walls of my home. So few wonderful things happen in winter anyway; it seems all the better that I should meet him in the spring.