During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims. “Um, he took me to the Big Apple. They shouted to her from the wings to come off. For freedom at least. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. I keep my finger on the pulse of things. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture.
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