" "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. One cannot expect that soldiers can be sympathique to one they believe may be a French spy. ’ ‘Valade?’ ‘Aye, sir. Then she moved towards the door. Winifred's reception was kind, but more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she resumed her occupation. “Endless. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver.
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