Mat salleh footing past toward the counter you would think would bow his head & short steps. What in the #%&!? blazes did he think he was doing?!… Had he approached for a chat he would certainly have gotten more than he bargained for. You would have hoped the man would be ashamed, in that quarter especially. It was a faded item now from the bottom of the wardrobe: guy a disheveled technocrat, or academic, with glimmers of innocent boyishness retained. On the shoulder-blades the still faintly legible slogan could be made out: CAMP DAVID. He could thank his lucky stars the Malays happened to be thin on the ground that night is all I will say.
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