Mr. Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. ‘But that is easy. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. She moved then, fast, taking refuge behind a Chinese screen that was set beside the four-poster at the back of the room. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. Such ambitions as he had were stereotyped and material. He let go of the girl’s arm.
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