When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. The individual twist was always there, even in the cleverest forgeries. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. "I'll be back in a minute. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way.
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