The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. So get up, and let's be off. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white.
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