Michelle bypassed the ordering counter and surfed directly to their table. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. Who invented them? Nobody knows. But just as they were about to place him on the ground, he burst from their hold, and made a desperate spring at Jonathan, who was standing with his arms folded near the door watching the scene. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath.
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