Manning, I do not really want to marry. ” She said and began to pace the hard dirt. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. Daughters were in the air that day. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion.
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