” “It was a mistake,” she faltered. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. " "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal.
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