Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. “You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. Ah Cum patrolled the length of the boat innumerable times, but never letting his glance stray far from the gangplank.
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