Diane Vorsack clicked her tongue in a “tsk”. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. I will remember them, Sebastian, along with my mother and father, and all the others I came to love and lose. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room.
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