“But your sister?” he asked. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. “I changed my last shilling yesterday. A shy virgin bride would not press her thigh sinuously against his, nor consent indeed to this clandestine little comedy he had been playing. And not a worthy tome in sight. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia.
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