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A Novel of the Same Name, Part 2
It was exactly the kind of detail that might betray him, some nosing zealot in the ministry. He went to the bathroom and carefully scrubbed the ink away with a gritty dark brown soap. It was quite useless to think of hiding it, but he could at least make sure whether or not its existence had been discovered. A hair laid across the page ends was too obvious. The two of them must evidently have been swallowed up in one of the first great purges of the fifties. At that moment his mother was sitting in some place deep down beneath him, with his young sister in her arms. They were in the saloon of a sinking ship, looking up at him