The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. “Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. Leave Martin Chen and his family alone.
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