‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. ‘I live in Kent. "It would avail him little if he did," replied Kneebone. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. I won’t try. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license.
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