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For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. All human food tasted equally dead and loathsome to her, whether it was prime steak or cheap hamburger. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. " Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. The decision had been sound. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly.
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