She dismissed the idea of doing so. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. ” “I said I was all right. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the doorway. . A few more minutes, and she was safe. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind.
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