"It is past," said Jack, placing his finger on the trigger. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. Perhaps it was just as well there was no inherited memory. The child has sprung into a youth; the youth has become a man; the man has already begun to feel the advances of age.
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