She tried not to notice how much attention Martin Chen had been paying her, but he had been bold enough to speak to her the other day. She flared her upper lip, baring her canines which had extended by half an inch. There were two. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. Analysis would come later, when the primitive conscience, satisfied, would cease to dominate his thought and action.
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