Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. At that a new element poured into her excitement, an element of wild disgust and terror. "Speak English?" boomed the voice. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. There was no rush.
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