"But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. She stared. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Then he was surrounded by black-clad nuns, and Melusine felt an unknown hand grab away her own sword. So good an opportunity may never occur again.
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