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... her pick up the blanched seaweed, with a gaze that compelled her to add, "If you really don’t want to eat here, we can switch to another place, find a Western restaurant..."
Before she could finish, she was interrupted. The man staring intensely at the seaweed on the skewer suddenly raised his head, looked directly into her face, and said, "Don’t you like it here?"
"Not really..."
She quite liked eating snacks; it reminded her of her school days and the times spent with B ...
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