They rose as she approached. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. A fever of shame ran through her being. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. He did everything. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom.
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