"What are those odd-looking things on the roofs?" she asked of Ah Cum. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. Melusine crossed to open it, and immediately the knocking intensified in volume. Never mind. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. ‘Couldn’t even trouble to make a pretence of motherhood. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. And no ill-chances.
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