“Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way.
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