He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved. ” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh.
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