Whenever Ah Cum (whose normal stride was sufficient to keep him at the side of her chair) pointed out something of interest, she had to strain the cords in her neck to focus her glance upon the object. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday.
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