“It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. It creaked slightly. I thought that he was dead. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. “I don’t want children, Lucy. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. ‘Me also I do not recall them.
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