Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. They went into Michelle's tiny bedroom, bare except for a dresser, a closet, and a miniscule single bed that resembled her own at the Becks.
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