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This morning she had been interrupted by Sahadevan who had lingered on at
the dining table after breakfast, and Prema, noticing that the youngster was
troubled, had turned to speak to him. But now she turned her chair back on him
He turned back, sadly. But the next evening, following her at a discreet distance,
waiting for a lonely stretch of the lane to speak to her, he watched her buttocks
rise and fall to the rhythm of her limp, and joyed in it. Suddenly she left the lane ...
The whore ... no wonder she had turned me down . . . couldn't face herself. . .
couldn't face me ... 'I can't', she had said. The shame of it . . . the stigma . . . what
she must have gone through . . . and me not there to help her. If only she had told
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WHEN MEMORY DIESUser Review - Kirkus
First published in Britain, a novel that movingly details how three generations of idealists try to find meaning and purpose as their country, Sri Lanka, becomes another killing field. The author ... Read full review