“Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. He was so seldom wrong. Though he walked by the side of the governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired by a broadbowled Dutch pipe.
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