He regarded that perennial miracle of pinning with wrathful eyes. Perhaps an hour later he would begin again. “More than that, he arrived to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. The one I have is a duplicate. "All right," he said. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. Won’t you come and have some tea with me? There is a new place in Bond Street,” he hastened to say, “where everything is very well done, and they give us music, if that is any attraction to you. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. But to choose this of all moments. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. “The Widgetts,” she said.
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