“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. I’ve already been accepted to a couple of schools out east. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. You are right. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses.
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