" She paused. The moviegoers exited the cinema in the customary daze that resulted from two hours of sensory bombardment. It had a tiny flaw, most bizarre. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs.
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