His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. Ah Cum's glance returned to the girl. Who invented them? Nobody knows. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige.
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