That evening when the whole party was back home, he walked across the vacant ground to get rid of the bits and pieces children had left in his car. She was playing chess on the veranda with Nongwaye Tlume; they had a modern gas-lamp that gave an underworld, steer-coloured light. She dumped the miscellany on a chair and walked with him through the garden which had no fence and was marked off from the scrub only by a few heads of zinnia and the shallow holes of and tracks made by the children. 'I taught Nongwaye to play but now he beats me regularly. When I grumble he says it's an old African custom, to beat women - but he's so westernized he does it at chess.' Strolling, chatting her arms crossed over her breasts, she ended up nearer his house than the other one, and came in for a drink. ' Is it too cold to sit under the fig?'
Hi, This is very good writing. Please read carefully, as I have made some small changes. Best wishes, Clive That evening ,when the whole party had gone home, he walked across the vacant ground to get rid of the bits and pieces children had left in his car.
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