" "He'll scarcely need a plaister," replied Mrs. ’ ‘Without permission. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. “Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation. I'm likely to get up any time in the night to work. Kevin Chen, Martin’s father, was equally stately, his dark brown eyes bright with the fire of extreme intelligence. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her.
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