She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. Lost ground must be regained. “Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. ’ ‘The horse?’ echoed Melusine. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. She kicked both of her legs with the force of a bull, sending a blow into Rhea’s borrowed legs.
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