The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. ‘No, for you had your own selfish plans already made, that is now seen. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease.
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