” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. Anna was not “Alcide” of the “Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting. To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a simple but modern dress. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not.
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