John’s demeanor shifted. Part 3 She dressed carefully for dinner in a black dress that her father liked, and that made her look serious and responsible. She felt she must suffocate if these men did not put her down, and for a time they would not put her down. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. ” His eyes were closed. 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.
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