She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said. " Many wrinkles appeared at the corners of Ah Cum's slant eyes—as if the sun hurt—but the rest of his face remained as passive as a graven Buddha's. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work.
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