Then he rallied, smiling a little. Kevin Chen, Martin’s father, was equally stately, his dark brown eyes bright with the fire of extreme intelligence. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. Annabel laughed a little uneasily.
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