“His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. For if the likeness between the sisters was remarkable, the likeness between this girl and the poster which he had come from studying was more remarkable still. “Are we interrupting anything?” “No!” Martin jumped slightly. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. “You wouldn’t. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient.
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