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Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. I'll tell you what. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. He made his headquarters at the Victoria on the Sha-mien, and generally met the Hong-Kong packet in the morning. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. Some trustworthy Chinaman to watch, for a small bribe, while he, James Boyle O'Higgins, enjoyed himself in Hong-Kong, seeing the spring races, the boxing matches, and hobnobbing with Yankee sailors. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. I wish very much that you had written before leaving Paris. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. The particulars of her engagement were very clear in her memory.
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