” Courtlaw was alarmed at the man’s pallor. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. She never forced the issue, it was their father’s job. His father spoke for him.
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