CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. "Mr. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. He had got here at speed by that means. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. In fact, I order you to do so.
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