How can he help you?”
She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his
heart beat to music. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I
231
could tell you. ‘Certainly you must
have seen her. "
"No," answered the ruffian, moodily. Yet, here she was, in
the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely
wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with
yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and
diffused strange suffocating smells. Nice lady. She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to
leave with Michelle’s. I
thought one had only to take it by the throat. Just
this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at
least, not just because he was an Englishman.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 06-07-2024 20:05:09