Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. It’s an instinct. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman.
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