A shudder rippled across his shoulders. " It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. ” “But I say, Vee,” said Constance, “if you come and you are forbidden to come there’ll be the deuce of a row. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out.
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