The tears flowed faster. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. John looked at his feet bashfully. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness.
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