If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. Oh God! pardon me. \" Michelle laughed. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl called her that. Always as black and bitter as gall. ” She smiled artificially as she scanned the audience and located John. ” “Hah!” He threw his head back. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand.
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