He caught the smirk. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. You never can tell. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then.
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