She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. "Ho, no," replied Jack. She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there.
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