"And now, Mrs. Ann Veronica was in their very forefront. You may go back, Marthe. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. His eyes were red. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. "I'll not believe it.
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