“There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. Before that came your father didn’t even know you were gone. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times.
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