’ His head came thrusting out at Melusine like a belligerent tortoise from its shell. The piece, in three movements, was short enough anyway. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. Melusine’s eyes shifted. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. “Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald.
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