The end of the world seemed at hand. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. What duty does a girl owe to any one before her father? Obedience to him, that is surely the first law. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out.
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