With astonishment, Gerald saw a rheumy film rimming his old commander’s eyes. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. The other was helping Trodger with his operation upstairs. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them.
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