Mrs. Sen glanced at Mr. Sen, who nodded.
Eliot's mother nodded, too, looking around the room. "And that's all ... in India?"
"Yes," Mrs. Sen replied. The mention of the word seemed to released something in her. She neatened the border of her sari where it rose diagonally across her chest. She, too, looked around the room, as if she noticed in the lampshades, in the teapot, in the shadows frozen on the carpet, something the rest of them could not. "Everything is there."
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