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It seems the palace is still inhabited by the shadows of those who once dwelt there. Ghostly silhouettes from different ages pass before us in endless procession. Gentlemen in wigs march solemnly past, maids of honor mince about, servants carry refreshments, children at play dash by, and revolutionary sailors escort an arrested man. The procession is subordinated to the intense rhythm of music by Shostakovich, which conveys the drama of time’s passage. Full of vicissitudes, the palace’s history is reflected in the tragedy of each human life.
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