Jonathan mixed with the group, and, sure of his prey, abided his time. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. He saw it in book-covers, on the stage. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.
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