No doubt she was wondering what he had done in Charvill’s house and what he intended now. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. He was silent. “You’re. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face.
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