Papa has sent me to be religieuse. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. The affair was thick with sinister suggestions. 9. She is no longer mine; she is yours. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat.
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