She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. It is the same man, for he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. ’ ‘Don’t call me by name,’ she snapped. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. "A knowledge of the ways of men. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips.
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