Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. " "With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. “I like you very much John. “So I see that you have become content with your hardscrabble existence, your week-to-week survival, your Martin Chen!” “Who?” “Your limp-wristed lover!” “Um. No—you shall come with me to Waterloo.
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