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In the late night in the dead of the Russian winter, was the Russian Composer Tchaikovsky. He was walking in the deep night by himself in the coldest time of winter...

"Боже мой... What will the people think of my Nutcracker suite? Have I spent all that time for nothing...?"

The Composer seemed to be in deep worry as he continued on his walk, The cold wind and heavy snowfall unfazed him in his worries...