It would be difficult to find another human being subjected to so many angles of attack as Spurlock. Stanley had never thought out. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. Her cheeks were aflame. It never has had.
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