Durell's face was like stone. He watched the Chinese girl move across the room like a long-legged colt but not without a practiced roll of the hips and a long, side-long glance at him out of her black almond eyes. She could have won a beauty contest anywhere in the world. She had charm, good looks, the body, and the brains. He didn't trust here much farther than he could have thrown her.
1970.