The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. White is proud of her drawing-room evenings.
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