Sir John stood upon the threshold. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately. “Now she’s all hat and ideas,” he said, with an air of humor. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father.
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