She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. The father was a madman. \"Michelle's here with a rather large cadre of friends. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn.
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