” 200 < 25 > MEETING MARTIN CHEN She tried out for the Lincoln High orchestra on a whim. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. It was Annabel who spoke. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence.
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