There was no rush. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. ’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman.
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