‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. The Old Mint III. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. “One can’t tell. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding.
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