In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya. Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking. “No,” she answered, reluctantly. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. He glanced at it, and saw the bloodied blade.
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