"Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. The dark and desperate thoughts that were passing through his mind at this time will presently be shown. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. "Affairs are not normal in Canton at present. .
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