Michelle was laid onto the back seat, her head cradled in Lucy’s lap. She didn’t choose her man. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. “You need have no further trouble. Almost had Martha won out.
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