They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. Jeez! It was about time. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. It had been a big event for teens across town. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. "Whatever your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it.
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