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Page 166

PART II - CHAPTER XIV

strange tongue to each other. I and my son, we do not understand them.
They are to stay at our house until our father and our mother receive them. When it is known to my mother that I have allowed them to dwell here she will be incensed at my unfilial roof. I tremble. Yet as my husband wishes, so it must be. And after all, is this not my brother, the son of one mother with me?

§
When we sit down to rice all together, she cannot eat with the chopsticks. I laugh secretly behind my sleeve because she cannot hold them even as well as my son holds them in his tiny hands. She grasps them firmly, and her brows knit themselves in her earnest endeavour to learn. But her hands are unskilled in delicate things. She knows nothing.
Her voice, My Sister, is not like any woman's voice that I have heard. We like to hear a woman's voice light and soft, like a small stream of water trickling between two rocks, or like the piping of little birds in the reeds. But her voice is deep and full, and since she speaks but seldom, one pauses to listen to it. It has the rich note

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE strange tongue to each other. I and my son, we do not understand them. They are to stay at our house until our father and our mother receive them. When it is known to my mother that I have allowed them to dwell here she will be incensed at my unfilial roof. I tremble. Yet as my husband wishes, so it must be. And after all, is this not my brother, what is son of one mother with me? § When we sit down to rice all together, she cannot eat with what is chopsticks. I laugh secretly behind my sleeve because she cannot hold them even as well as my son holds them in his tiny hands. She grasps them firmly, and her brows knit themselves in her earnest endeavour to learn. But her hands are uns what time is it ed in delicate things. She knows nothing. Her voice, My Sister, is not like any woman's voice that I have heard. We like to hear a woman's voice light and soft, like a small stream of water trickling between where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" East Wind: West Wind (1939) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 166 where is strong PART II - CHAPTER XIV where is p align="justify" strange tongue to each other. I and my son, we do not understand them. They are to stay at our house until our father and our mother receive them. When it is known to my mother that I have allowed them to dwell here she will be incensed at my unfilial roof. I tremble. Yet as my husband wishes, so it must be. And after all, is this not my brother, what is son of one mother with me? § When we sit down to rice all together, she cannot eat with the chopsticks. I laugh secretly behind my sleeve because she cannot hold them even as well as my son holds them in his tiny hands. She grasps them firmly, and her brows knit themselves in her earnest endeavour to learn. But her hands are uns what time is it ed in delicate things. She knows nothing. Her voice, My Sister, is not like any woman's voice that I have heard. We like to hear a woman's voice light and soft, like a small stream of water trickling between two rocks, or like the piping of little birds in what is reeds. But her voice is deep and full, and since she speaks but seldom, one pauses to listen to it. It has what is rich note where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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