And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. The popcorn dwindled to a half a bucket, his heart settled into its normal routine. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. Sheila bellowed, a great wail of a sound from deep in her belly, flinging her tremendous weight towards him.
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