Stellenbosch, Uncle Tromp repeated, mouthing the word, rolling it overhis tongue, gargling it in his throat as though it were the first tasteof a rare and noble wine. The skin ofher bosom was untouched by the sun, pale smooth and pearly as fine bonechina. No, not ivory. He prodded Manfred with a forefinger like a pruningshear.
He cocked the pistol and pressed the muzzle to Manfred's chest, aimingfor the heart, and Manfred did not flinch. Manfred, thetallest and sturdiest of all the freshmen, was at the end of the line,and Roelf Stander stopped in front of him last. The room was full of cigarette smoke and the clatter oftypewriters as they worked. In darkness the skip rocketed downwards, drumming and rattling andracing like an express train in a tunnel, and the terror went on and on,minute after minute, eternity after eternity.
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