. . ’ Emile reached out both hands and grasped her shoulders. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. ’ ‘Entertained, he says!’ ‘Intrigued, then,’ amended Gerald equably, although truth to tell he was enjoying the mystery enormously. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. You'd be coming up to Hong-Kong, but you'd be cutting out Canton. "He has quite the air of one. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. Now, she was the very reverse of all this. ” Her father’s irony deepened.
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