Whenever Ah Cum (whose normal stride was sufficient to keep him at the side of her chair) pointed out something of interest, she had to strain the cords in her neck to focus her glance upon the object. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead.
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