‘You’d do the same. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Even Blueskin looked on with anxiety. You seem to want this chap out of Canton. Hilary made a movement as if he would seize the opportunity to disarm the girl, but Gerald stopped him. He resolved to judge for himself. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace.
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