"She wouldn't let me go. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. I am almost old enough to be your father. It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. She is like some character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty years and just been excavated. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. “I’m not in the mood right this instant. Do you like duck?” “Sure. I shouldn't talk like that. " Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. Perhaps he had had money in the coat, back in Hong-Kong, and had been robbed without knowing it.
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