‘I understand you have not been in England very long,’ he said in English, noting that Madame raised her fan and lowered her gaze demurely. ‘But a spy I am not. He was caked with dried muck. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. ” She shrugged her shoulders and led him towards a small recess. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. “Have to go now.
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