” She gazed at him. " 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. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. And in that respect they stir up one another.
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