She wanted to live. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. You are my prisoner, murderer. . I make no apology for not being with you now. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. “Just look that through, will you. I might add that in any case I should not touch Sir John’s. “Politics!” Ennison answered grimly.
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