‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. He understood. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. Mr. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face.
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