If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Terence, meanwhile, who had followed him, did not remain silent, but recapitulated his story, for the benefit of Mrs.
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