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I talked to Mr. Liu and Mrs. Chen. Mr. Liu said he'll contact us
soon.
No problems? You trotted out the Peitou line?
He wasn't happy, but he got the message. I also talked to the widow
… who wasn't too forthcoming.
Didn't figure she would be. Want a drink? Got some Jack here. Here.
Wait up. With a burst of vigor Allen is on his feet, his white
ponytail bobbing as he hustles into the kitchen. C.J. follows him
in.
Hi, C.J.
Carol occupies two chairs, one for her body and one to prop her
legs on. She is dressed in a black tank top and jeans that have been
cut off just above the knees. He
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doesn't find her particularly attractive on the empiric level~short
of makeup and thin-faced, she resembles any Taiwan girl on the street,
perhaps a touch more dusky than most~and yet something about her manner,
the languid bob of her short hair and the challenging look that always
seems ready to take over her face, is intriguing. It is impossible
to guess her age; most of her smiles suggest late teens, the way she
carries herself suggests mid-twenties.
Hi, he says.
Pull your jaw up off the floor, Allen booms at him, thrusting
a glass filled to the brim into his hand. Did you talk to the daughter?
Didn't have the chance.
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