She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. ‘I understand you have not been in England very long,’ he said in English, noting that Madame raised her fan and lowered her gaze demurely. She had not anticipated such a response from her classmates, but knew to be drawing them with her self-consciousness as if they were bees to pollen. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. She knew she was a monster and so did they. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort.
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