” Lucy said tenderly. I followed you home on the train. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. This obstacle being removed, in his eagerness to proceed, he had forgotten to take his little charge with him. Plus he’s a genius. I fight. ‘Was you following, too, miss?’ ‘Certainly I was following. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. I was being stupid.
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