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She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. It wailed at Lucy, chubby arms reaching towards her, pleading. . Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. You want music.
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