“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. Then he threw the letter at me. "You'll get nothing out of me, I can promise you, unless you show a little more civility. ’ ‘But, Hilary—’ ‘Don’t you begin, Lucilla, for I won’t stand for it. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton.
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