A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. That won’t involve references, as a bank account would—and all that sort of thing. Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity.
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