She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. His voice now had lost its ironies. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. He moaned. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. ‘One would take it that the house had been ransacked. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. Hollo rumbled in his throat.
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