I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room.
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