“YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. 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. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. Her desires were not for riches. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. She is something different.
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