’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. “Of course,” he ventured, “I could try for more at the ‘Alhambra. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation.
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