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Do you expect me, I wonder. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. Do you understand?” “I do not,” he answered. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. ‘Certainly no one will find it. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel.
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