” She smiled at the thought. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. Partly, from your confessor; partly, from other sources. Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. . ” “Sure, anything you want. . “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ’ ‘What if she goes back to Charvill?’ demanded Roding.
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