Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. ” She sniffled. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled.
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