‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. “I have come to tell you this. ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. She felt flattered. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. " "Irons—heavy irons—night and day.
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