’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. And I want you for myself—for my wife. Perhaps she might never come back to that breakfast-room again. His voice now had lost its ironies. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture.
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