David Courtlaw. Every drop of blood in her body glowed and expanded. Being a Chinaman in blood and instinct, he despised all spinsters; they were parasites. Whatever happened she need never return to that possibility. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room.
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