‘Why do you think I want a man ready to run to me with every move she makes?’ countered Gerald. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. By that time it seemed to them they had lived together twenty years.
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