Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. I wouldn't trust a Malay, not if he were reared in the Vatican. Everywhere there are limitations. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. “What was that?” she asked sharply. It wound around a small manufactured lake. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away.
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