‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. \" Michelle said ruefully. Wood. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. ” She played with her hair. ” “Please don’t let him know I’m here yet. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so.
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