" Many wrinkles appeared at the corners of Ah Cum's slant eyes—as if the sun hurt—but the rest of his face remained as passive as a graven Buddha's. At last—I told a story. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. "I'll run and bring him back. You came to me, you wished me to speak to Anna. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends.
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