” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. Hurry to me, I entreat you. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. Then, there's Mr. 6 Chiu Ping le, Chiu Yam Street.
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