They thought that she was her own mother. “You remind me of a little blue stone I had once. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. Whenever she came upon the obliterated word and paused, her father would say: "Faith. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth.
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