” “No, that’s okay. Even her own history teacher, Mr. “Oh dear, I’m not dressed. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. Not entirely. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers.
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