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Who, at the first sign of frost, doesn’t long to be wrapped in an oversized cashmere throw, sit by the fire, grab a good book, and sip something spiked and fragrant while the snowflakes outside are dancing the polka? January’s chilly winds and all too brief days call for heavier knits, formal furs to banish the cold and an inferno of fragrance to get through it all; and cold it has been,

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