His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. Miching Mallecho. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. 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.
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