She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. You have threatened to kill me for nothing, I know not how many times. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Prudence was the substance and Angelina the shadow; for Angelina never offered opinions, she only agreed with those advanced by Prudence. She refused to eat. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. Or run me through.
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